


Promises in the Dark

by kylarileiza



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bunkerkru, Dark Times, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot Collection, Short One Shot, kannibalkru, mackson - Freeform, people just trying to survive, the dark year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:09:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylarileiza/pseuds/kylarileiza
Summary: Snapshots of life in the bunker, prominently featuring Jackson/Miller.  Niylah is frequently here. Gaia, Abby, Kane, Indra, and Octavia will have cameos.





	1. The Dark Year

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One summary: Jackson has trouble coping so Miller makes promises.
> 
> Obviously SPOILERS. Anyway, this couple is really cute so I'm loving it! And wanting to offer forth my paltry contribution(s?).

"I can't do it," Jackson muttered into the darkness. Miller tensed next to him, they'd had this discussion before. "I can't," Jackson repeated again and Miller's chest became heavy at the brokenness he could hear in his loved one's voice. Tendrils of sympathy rose up within him but they were quickly overrode by the thread of panic that was shooting through his every vein, making his fingers tremble slightly. They weren't supposed to talk about stuff like this, if someone were to figure out what Jackson was talking about, he'd be thrown into the pit and Jackson wouldn't survive the pit, he wouldn't even fight for the weapon.

Miller pressed himself closer to Jackson who lay on his side, back to Miller. He wrapped his arms around Jackson, trying to pull him closer, the bed was already small so it was easy to do. He willed his fingers to stop shaking as he tried to offer comfort to Jackson through reassuring touches. He made sure to get close to Jackson's ear so he could whisper to him without an audience, "I know it's hard, but you have to." And then, a little desperate because he knew there wasn't really a  _have to_  about it,  _"Please."_ He fell silent for a few moments. "I don't want to lose you." And he would. Octavia would see to that. He knew it wouldn't be personal on her part and she would be sad, but she had dug them in too deep at this point. She would have no choice if Jackson refused the  _food._

Jackson had been eating it, but it'd been taking a toll on him just as it had with everyone else. However, while most everyone else had eventually started to accept it as a norm, the status quo even and gotten used to it, Jackson seemed to be getting more and more unsettled about it. He had never wanted to in the first place but with some encouragement from both Abby and Miller, he had. Miller was terrified that one day Jackson would just refuse and then be shot to death and be everyone's next meal. The thought made him want to retch. He swallowed, realizing Jackson hadn't responded to him. Miller tried again, whispering in Jackson's ear, "Jackson, even Abby says this is best. It's been two months. It'll get better."

He knew it was an empty promise, he'd been saying it for two months and it hadn't gotten better. Just a couple weeks ago, he'd comforted Jackson after meal time when they'd eaten someone that Jackson had been in the process of training- the trainee had stolen some medical supplies. Jackson had simply tried to get them back without making a fuss over it, but it had blown up rather big and nearly gotten Jackson himself thrown into the pit for not reporting it straightaway. Jackson had been miserable since feeling directly responsible despite Miller, Abby, and Kane's reassurances.

Miller glanced around again into the darkened room, his eyes having long ago adjusted to the shadows and shapes on the wall. Mostly everyone else in the room was asleep. He found Niylah staring back at him, her eyes clearly conveying that he better shut his boyfriend up or they would all be sorry. He squeezed Jackson a little tighter, the worry not melting away, and he desperately wished there were more private areas in the bunker so he could have a clear conversation with Jackson regarding this matter. They couldn't, though, nearly every conversation in the bunker was monitored by someone else in the bunker. If you said the wrong thing, you could get sent to the pit. And they did not talk about what was going on now. They just said that the year was dark.

Jackson finally responded to the touches and voice in his ear, shifting so he could turn to look at Miller, eyes sad and resigned "Will it?"

"I promise," Miller stated with an overwhelming amount of conviction. "It will get better." He stared at Jackson, searching his eyes, waiting for an answer or a sign or something,  _anything_ that would let him rest without nightmares of Jackson being shot or thrown into the pit. "Do you believe me?" he asked, his own voice wavering, betraying just how concerned he was.

Jackson closed his eyes briefly and smiled sadly before looking back at Miller. "Yes, I believe you."

"You'll…..?"

Jackson nodded at the unspoken question. "Yeah, I can. With you here, I can." The tight ball of worry in Miller's chest finally loosened and he felt relief in every bone of his body, suddenly he felt light and he almost wanted to laugh in relief, but settled for just smiling- he didn't want to draw anymore attention to the bed than they might have already. Miller squeezed Jackson again and dipped down so his mouth was close to the other's.

"I promise I'll make it worth your while," he said easily before closing the gap between their mouths, hoping Jackson could understand everything he was trying to convey with the kiss. He could almost feel Niylah smirking at them, but didn't care. He just wanted to reassure Jackson that it would be  _okay_ and he also wanted to be assured that  _Jackson_  would be okay, that they would survive this Dark Year. That they would survive  _all_  of it. He intended to keep all his promises.


	2. Early Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'm writing vignettes. Jackson being all introspective in the early days of the bunker.

The room was set up similar to a hostel with multiple bunks in one room. Jackson sat on his bed, the lower bunk, and immediately hunched over, elbows on knees, his palms going up to his eyes, fingers digging into his scalp as he tried to force away the memories of the day. Twelve hundred people might not be a lot for the whole human race, but it became an overwhelming number in a small space with warring clans and only two doctors. Then there was the issue that some people were seeming to think he and Abby were therapists and coming to them about their depression and anxiety among other concerns.

Jackson patiently listened to each one, worried what they might do if he sent them away without an outlet. Some people cried, others were threatening to murder someone else. They had yet to be down in the bunker for two full weeks and people were already restless and acting like they'd been down here for years. There was nowhere to run, no way to really get space from each other. Abby had listened to some concerns and complaints as well and, like Jackson, made assurances that they would let Octavia know. These people thought he and Abby had way more power than they actually did.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his breathing, hoping he wasn't making too big of a show. He certainly didn't want anyone to think he couldn't do his job. There was nowhere to go to hide from anyone, though. Even in Medical, there were two other grounders always present so as to create an illusion of fairness. The two grounders had been picked by Octavia and they were extremely laid back and even what Jackson would assume to be weak by grounder standards. He was sure Octavia had done that on purpose as she would rather not lose her doctors.  There were more fights every day as everyone was on edge.  

People threatened to kill you if you took too long in the bathrooms and the stench in those rooms was already awful. The whole bunker was starting to smell of sweat and body odor and those were the less nauseating smells. The water hadn't been rationed the first few days and they had all paid dearly for it. Showers were assigned by days now and you were only allowed a few minutes to use it. Jackson could just imagine how the place would smell in a couple years.

He knew other people were in the room, but it must have been late out because most were dozing. Then again, a lot of people liked to sleep at random, they weren't on a strict schedule yet, though one was sure to be on the way. Abby had insisted Jackson leave Medical when she noticed him wincing and grabbing at his temple. He had a pounding headache, one that he hoped wouldn't evolve into a migraine. That was all he needed.

He hated leaving Abby with the two grounders, but she promised she would be fine and wrap it up soon and Kane would be by shortly, anyway. Surprisingly, one of the grounders insisted on escorting Jackson back to the Skaikru room he was bunking in. Jackson had been quietly terrified at first of being with the grounder in the halls and not with Abby or Kane or Miller or Octavia or someone he  _knew._ However, that terror turned to relief as the halls still had people milling about, mostly grounders so he was glad he wasn't travelling alone. He fretted that the grounder, his name was Almon, would have to go back alone and Almon had just laughed. Jackson wasn't sure if it had been kindness or paranoia that had made Almon want to walk with him in the halls.

All these people were going to go crazy here. And he and Abby were going to go crazy listening and trying to fix them. Jackson was already feeling like his grip on sanity was starting to slide. This couldn't be real; they couldn't possibly be planning to stay in this bunker for  _years_  with each other. That was the plan, though. They were all to stay in this bunker, this place that was smaller than the Ark, for five years  _at least._

He knew survival was possible; after all, he was born and raised on the Ark, but that system was a lot different. It wasn't a mash up of these warring clans and it had been a much larger space. Even so, he knew they had to see this through. Their ancestors had survived somehow and secured a place for their descendants to carry on humanity. They certainly couldn't stop now. Not now, when they were back to being nearly extinct  _again._  Why was it like this? Why couldn't everyone just get along or, at the very least, not endanger the  _entire_ human race? Not to mention  _Earth_  in general?

There was motion by him and a shift in the mattress as someone sat next to him. Then there was a thumb on one of his wrists, gently rubbing as Jackson pressed the palms of his hands further into his eyes. Jackson recognized the touch as Miller's. "Hey," the voice was soft. Jackson stiffened for a second, remembering how they'd been flirting and messing around before this. He wasn't really sure what to make of it all even though he'd initiated it. He hadn't expected it to even be returned, he'd gotten so used to being alone a long time ago. "Hey," Miller's voice was still soft and there was concern there, "everything will work itself out."

Jackson finally lowered his hands and turned to stare at Miller in disbelief. How Miller could even think to comfort him when his own father had just died not even two weeks before boggled Jackson's mind. Jackson managed a weary smile. "Yeah, I'm just concerned with the how."

Miller grabbed his hand more firmly, interlocking their fingers, and brought it down away from Jackson's face. "Doesn't matter how, so long as it works out."

Jackson was struck with the confidence Miller spoke with. It was quite astounding and inspiring. His smile brightened with appreciation. "Thanks," he said gratefully. Miller's face lit up and he nodded.

"Sure thing." He squeezed Jackson's hand and scooted closer. "I'm here for you, Jackson. Anytime ya need me."

"Right," Jackson murmured with a nod, still unsure of what they even were. He wasn't sure it even mattered, he was just grateful that somebody here cared enough to sit with him and offer comfort.  He felt incredibly fortunate despite everything. He suspected anyone that saw them would assume they were an item and he found quiet glee in that. He wondered if Miller felt the same. Judging by how little space was in between them, he could only assume the feelings were returned.

Yes. Everything would work out, one way or another.


	3. a rose by any other name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for you, JennMel! Thanks to your lovely and awesome fic, I have also been trying to figure out why Miller calls Jackson by his last name in canon even after six years. So here's my take!

"Hey, Jackson, will I see you later?" Miller asked Jackson as he checked his gun and got ready to leave for the shift Octavia had assigned him. Jackson just grinned and nodded, leaning on the ladder that connected his lower bunk to the upper one. Amusement flashed across Miller's face before he left the room.

"You two are really cute," Niylah commented from where she stood by her bed. She smiled when Jackson's head jerked towards her. He had forgotten there was an audience. There was always an audience here, he wasn't sure why he'd forgotten. He felt heat rush to his face and suddenly the room seemed hotter than normal. Niylah giggled at his surprise. "What? Forgot you had company?"

"Yeah," another voice chimed in. "Don't forget there are like eight other people in here." Jackson recognized the voice as Haley's. A nice woman whose mother had been essential personnel on the Ark. Miller's father had not been the only parent to make the ultimate sacrifice; they were finding this to be a common thread amongst Skaikru remnants. Haley mostly kept to herself but would always offer help without having to be asked.

Niylah just grinned at Jackson. "It's been twenty three days down here." Jackson almost commented that it felt like way more time than that had passed but Niylah went on, "I'm glad you and your boyfriend are getting on well."

"My boyfriend…..?" Jackson trailed off uncertainly. Is that what they were? They had yet to discuss it and he doubted they ever would, not with everything that was constantly going on around them. Even now, Jackson would need to go and relieve Abby in Medical in less than two hours.

"Well, he is, right?" Haley asked from her position on her bed, looking incredibly invested. It occurred to Jackson that some of the people didn't have nearly as much to do as they probably should down here. Haley sat behind another woman, braiding her hair as intricately as possible. Skaikru had made it a point to try to blend in with the eleven hundred other grounders in the bunker as much as possible to avoid being harassed when in the halls.

The girl whose hair was being braided, Ivy, finally joined in. "Are they? He still calls him by his last name."

"Most of us call him by his last name," Haley pointed out.

"Is your name not Jackson?" Niylah asked, confused. "I thought you were Jackson kom Skaikru." She had heard of the others being called two names when she lived in Arkadia and it had been explained to her, but it was still confusing. This seemed even more confusing because she did know that those that knew each other well used first names and not the second name. She had always assumed Jackson was the first name since Abby always used it.

"It is," Jackson assured her, "It's Eric Jackson."

"Almost everyone calls you Jackson," Niylah pointed out, feeling more out of the loop than usual.

"I am Dr. Jackson," he tried to explain. "Abby just likes to call me Jackson. On the Ark, people immediately knew who she meant, but it still respected the profession I'm in more than just calling me Eric. I guess it's carried over here."

Niylah frowned. "I still don't get it. Why not just call you Eric? Is this similar to how everyone calls John Murphy by his last name?" Jackson couldn't help but feel a little stung at being compared to  _Murphy._

"I guess it is a little similar to that," he conceded.

"All that aside," Ivy piped up again. "Why doesn't your boyfriend call you by your first name? It's one thing if we all call you Jackson, but it's a little weird that Nathan Miller still calls you Jackson. You call him Nate."

Niylah raised her brows. "I have heard you call him Nate." She still looked confused about the first and last names. She looked over at Ivy and Haley, still on Haley's bed. There was a boy on the bunk above them and he just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Once she got the girls' attention, she asked, "Is it odd for Miller- or should I call him Nathan? Is it odd for him to say Jackson instead of Eric?"

Ivy shrugged. "It's a little odd. At least for us Skaikru people."

"We're all Wonkru here," Jackson automatically corrected Ivy. "Niylah is our people, too."

"Right, sorry, didn't mean anything by it," Ivy offered up a quick, apologetic smile at Niylah. Niylah smiled and gave her a reassuring nod before looking back at Jackson.

"Does it bother you then, Jackson? That he doesn't call you Eric?"

Jackson pursed his lips and shook his head, remembering what had happened just a few days prior.

 

" _Hey, Jackson," Miller found Jackson alone in the halls. "Why are you wandering around alone here? You know Kane likes for us to use the buddy system. Especially in Skaikru."_

" _I thought we were Wonkru now," Jackson pointed out tiredly. Today had been a rough day in Medical. One woman had threatened to kill herself and Jackson had spent over an hour talking her through everything, trying to soothe her, and just promise a better tomorrow that he really had no business promising._

" _We are, but we still need to be careful. A lot of the grounders are still having trouble adjusting."_

" _As opposed to you?" Jackson asked good-naturedly._

_Miller just shrugged. "You know me. I adjust pretty well to most things. The way I see it, I'm still alive and I should have died ten times over by now."_

_Jackson shook his head slightly. "I'm happy you're not dead ten times over. I'm really glad you're here."_

_Miller laughed. "That makes two of us." He grabbed Jackson's hand. "Wanna stop somewhere?"_

" _Where? The bathrooms?" The bathrooms were a popular place for people to go and make out or do the dirty but then everyone could hear. The last time he'd used the bathroom, he'd heard at least two couples having intercourse, someone pissing, another person farting, and to top it all off, people banging on the doors, demanding for things to move along quicker because they needed to use it. The bathrooms were like a mini Hell within the bunker. He was actively avoiding the bathrooms as much as possible and he suspected most of the still sane people were. He and Abby thought there might be a small bathroom stowed away in Medical but they had yet to discover it. There was nowhere to go._

" _No, let's just stop right here," Miller pulled him to the wall._

" _The wall?"_

" _Yeah, look, none of these people are paying us any attention," Miller pointed out. Jackson looked around and Miller was right, they weren't except for a few stray glances. Miller grabbed his face firmly and kissed him. Jackson immediately started giggling like this was the funniest thing ever. Miller stopped and frowned. "What?"_

" _I think you just want everyone to know you got someone to kiss. We could just do this in the bathrooms."_

" _The bathrooms smell like sex, piss, shit, and puke."_

" _Right. Exactly like a bathroom."_

" _I don't want to do this in the bathrooms, Jackson. Not making out, there's no need to go to the bathrooms for that. I see plenty of people in the halls kissing. And, yes, maybe I do want everyone to know I got someone to kiss. Don't you?"_

" _You still call me Jackson." It hadn't been truly bothering him, but he wondered why it was like that. He had started calling Miller by his first name awhile ago._

" _Yeah, and I'm going to keep calling you Jackson."_

" _Why?"_

_Miller's face was grave all of a sudden, looking much more serious than usual. "Because, Jackson, I don't want you to forget who you are."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _I don't want you forgetting that you're a doctor. I want you to remember that. You like helping people and you're good at it." Miller paused, looking pained for a second. "Bryan forgot who he was. You're a good and kind person, too. This kind of life sucks the good out of people. I don't want that for you."_

_Jackson stared at him in silence for a few moments. "And what kind of person do you think you are?"_

_Miller smiled wearily. "The kind that thrives in this kind of life."_

" _You're a good person, too, Nate," Jackson insisted, his own hands reaching up to touch Miller's face._

" _No," Miller said with a shake of his head. "But it's okay, I've come to terms with it. You are good and I don't want you ever forgetting it so I'm going to keep calling you Jackson."_

_Jackson was ready to argue the point but just smiled sadly instead, knowing this was an argument he wouldn't win. "I guess it would be weird if you started calling me Eric, no one would know who you were talking about."_

" _Yeah, exactly."_

 

"Jackson?" Niylah prompted again, bringing Jackson back to the present. 

"No, it doesn't bother me at all," he explained. "Actually, I like that he calls me Jackson."


	4. Round Robin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying something a little different here. In present tense with the characters telling a story in present tense. LOL. Heavy dialogue in this chapter. 
> 
> Also, feel free to prompt me if you want (just expect it to be short and possibly sappy. Not really wanting to write smut, though. Least not in this collection). And let's keep it Bunkerkru.

"You want to play a round of that game?" Miller asks roughly, voice strained. "The one Niylah likes?"

Jackson winces at the sound of his partner's voice, he is still clearly in pain. It'd been slightly over four years or 1,562 days in the bunker. Not like anybody was keeping count. Things were eerily similar to the Ark in some aspects down in the bunker. One of them being the rations. They had run out of most pain meds a long time ago so it's not as if it mattered. Miller had already used the little bit that had been allowed for him.

There had been another small revolt and Miller had helped subdue it. He'd taken two bullets, one in the arm, another in the leg, and a stab wound to the shoulder in the process. It'd been four days and he was out of the woods as far as Jackson and Abby could tell. Still, the whole scene sets Jackson on edge and his nerves are frayed. He wants nothing more than Miller to get a good, restful, and painless sleep.

"I've been wanting to play," Niylah quietly chimes in. They are in their regular room, Miller on Jackson's bunk since it was the lower bed. Medical has three patients that are in more critical condition and Jackson wants to keep a close eye on Miller and feels he'll be safer in the Skaikru room. It helps that Niylah is there as well and she'd been training with him and Abby so he likes knowing that there will nearly always be someone with medical knowledge nearby.

"What about your shift?" Jackson glances up at her. Niylah smiles.

"Still got about an hour. Plenty of time for a few rounds."

Jackson nods in agreement, absently rubbing at Miller's lower arm, trying to offer some comfort through the pain. "Okay, you want to start, Nate?"

"Yeah," Miller gets out between a couple deep breaths, shooting both Niylah and Jackson grateful looks. "Today, I wander around outside and find a garden abundant with vegetables."

Niylah immediately picks up where he left off, "You find several vines of luscious tomatoes, rows upon rows of carrots, cucumbers everywhere, spinach sprouting up from the ground, and potatoes peeking through the soil."

"You spend time in the garden, harvesting the different vegetables, digging your fingers in the dirt, soaking in the sunshine, excited about what you're going to make out of the vegetables," Jackson joins in.

"I bring the vegetables to Jackson and Niylah."

Niylah smiles and continues the story, "I'm overjoyed and can't thank you enough, I can't wait to surprise you with a meal."

"I'm thrilled also and discuss with Niylah about what we're going to make with all the wonderful vegetables you've brought to us."

"I rinse the vegetables off while you two decide what all to make."

"I want to make a brightly colored feast, I want to dice the tomatoes up into little cubes, slice the cucumbers, pile plates high with spinach, season the potatoes with rosemary and thyme, and I'm hoping Jackson has an idea for all the carrots."

Jackson grins, grateful for getting to present the dessert. "I want to make a carrot cake with the carrots, similar to the cake you once had while in Mount Weather."

Miller moans a bit and Jackson can't tell if it's from imagining eating a cake or the pain, he suspects it's due to both. Miller quietly contributes, "I can't wait for the feast and the cake, I knew you two would know exactly what to do with all the vegetables from the garden."

"I give you a plate that promises to be the best meal you'll ever eat," Niylah continues with a smile, "I set myself and Jackson a plate."

"Am I getting a plate, too?" Gaia's voice suddenly cuts through the room, amused. She looks at Niylah. "Abby is requesting you report to Medical, she said she needs you a little early because of the critical patients." Niylah nods, instantly understanding; it was often this way with those that helped in Medical. Gaia nods back. "Don't worry, I'll take your spot for a few minutes if that's okay with everyone?"

"Yeah," Miller mumbles and Jackson agrees.

"Thanks," Niylah says before leaving the room. She assumes that Ethan is with Indra as the two often watch over him.

"Well, let's carry on then," Gaia encourages the other two, having recognized the game immediately. It was a common game within the bunker, a wistful game of round robin where they lived out what they wished they were doing elsewhere. Often food was involved simply because everyone was always hungry. "The tomatoes are the best thing you've ever eaten, the spinach is so fresh and the potatoes are seasoned to perfection."

"You enjoy the food immensely and eat until there is nothing left on your plate, your appetite fully satiated."

"I can't wait to eat the carrot cake you made," Miller adds sleepily, eyes sliding closed.

"Jackson makes the best carrot cake, it's even better than the tomatoes you just ate, you have a second piece because there is plenty to go around." Gaia watches Jackson as he places a concerned hand on Miller's forehead.

"He's still feverish," Jackson mutters, biting his lower lip in agitation.

"He'll be fine," Gaia states, staring down at Miller. For a few moments, his labored breaths are the only thing that fill the room. Gaia glances around. "Where is everyone else?"

Jackson swallows thickly. "They've been leaving and staying in other rooms because of the noise," he explains apologetically. He cast sad eyes upon a few of the beds. "And there's a few that just don't need the beds anymore." Gaia understands immediately. Her own quarters are still full, but she shares them with Abby, Kane, her mother, Ethan, and Brell. Jackson looks back down at Miller, still overcome with worry. Gaia knows that Abby has been anxious about him.

"Really, he'll be okay, you know how stubborn he is," Gaia points out, trying to lighten his mood with a little humor.

"He is stubborn."

"Damn right I am," Miller manages to speak up, though his eyes remain closed. "She's right, I'm not going anywhere. Stop worrying." He cracks open an eye and allows a small smile. "Thanks for playing the game."

Jackson nods. "Anytime. Try to get some rest."

"Trying, be easier if you'd stop worrying."

Gaia laughs. "Okay, maybe I need to kick you out so he can have a break," she teases Jackson through the laughter. She's glad she came to their room and joined the game.  It's endearing how much the two care for each other. It's inspiring that pure things still exist down here.  


	5. Dark Year: Inner Workings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark and short. Somebody's gotta be cubing those humans.

Abby stared resolutely at Jackson. They sat at a table in Medical. The two grounders that were assigned to keep an eye on them weren't there for once. It was just the two of them. "I'm sorry about this, Jackson. I really am. I hope….you can forgive me for it one day."

Jackson just shook his head minutely, having trouble finding his voice. "You don't need me to forgive you, Abby."

Abby blinked back tears and pursed her lips while nodding. "Yeah, I do. I shouldn't have volunteered you for this, I shouldn't have requested help, I shouldn't have requested  _you._  I just- I can't do this on my own."

"And we work well together," Jackson filled in the rest. His stomach tightened as he tried not to think about what they were about to do. He just needed to shut off that part of his brain for this. He might need to shut off that part of his brain permanently if this was to be an ongoing thing, which it was looking more and more likely to be.

Abby took a deep breath, trying to fight down the unease that coiled in her gut. She had asked Octavia to get her Jackson to help with this task. It killed her because she knew how hesitant Jackson was to use violence even to defend himself. But she knew she could trust him to see this through with her. She trusted him more than anyone else, possibly more than Kane at times. She hated to think what this might do to him, though.

"I wouldn't want you doing this alone, Abby," Jackson said with resolve. "I'd want to help you, anyway, so I'm glad you requested my assistance."

Abby laughed humorlessly. "I hope you still feel that way once we get out of here."

"I will," he insisted.

Abby nodded and rose from the table. "Well, then, should we begin?"

Jackson gulped and rose from the table as well, following Abby. Soon they were both standing over a cold, silver, clinical table. A body was on it. There were tools nearby for them to use. Another rolling table rested near the table with the body. It was empty, waiting to be used. It's where they would put the pieces before rolling it to the kitchen. 

Abby grabbed a scalpel. Jackson went to grab one as well, but hesitated, dread clear in his eyes. Abby felt guilt again but pushed it aside, trying to focus on the task at hand. "If we don't do this, we starve. Everyone starves." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince anymore. "Everyone dies. Octavia. Kane. Nathan.  _Everyone."_

"I know," Jackson replied, voice tinged with chagrin. "Let's just get this over with,  _please._ "


	6. Dark Year: Inner Workings Continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place immediately after the last chapter.

Miller listened to the steady breathing in the room. There were several other people sharing the room, each having given way to sleep long ago. He lay on the top bed of the bunk he shared with a young girl from Skaikru who was sleeping soundly beneath him. A strict schedule had been enforced on the bunker inhabitants sometime ago. Octavia had found it was easier to detect the beginnings of dissent this way. The lights were turned off at the same time every evening, imitating a night and day cycle that the bunker had lacked the first several months they'd lived within it's halls.

Most of Wonkru had gotten used to the schedule which was oddly similar to that of the Ark. Kane had encouraged this kind of schedule and routine. It hadn't taken long for the Skaikru remnants to adapt as it was something deeply ingrained in them. The grounder remnants were still having considerably more trouble adjusting. Miller would often run into stray grounders roaming the halls unauthorized when he was on duty.

His primary concern at the moment was that Jackson had yet to return from Medical. He should have been back by now. His bed was two bunks over and it remained empty, only one of two empty beds; the other belonged to a fellow guard who was on duty. Miller knew it was way past the time for Jackson to return. Abby had warned him that they might be late but that didn't help ward off his worries.

He hated not knowing exactly where Jackson was or what he was up to. In a place like this, it was almost too easy for one to suddenly lose their life or wind up in the pit. Jackson was a good person, probably too good of a person. Miller thought someone like him deserved a much better life than the one he'd been dealt. He was concerned about Jackson possibly being in the halls alone, he was way too compliant so Miller hated for him to be alone at any point unless it was with him or someone he knew would have his best interests at heart like Abby.

She had said they would take care of things tonight, they would get things started so they could start rationing the… _food._ Miller shuddered, he hoped she wasn't involving Jackson in that but, ultimately, that would be Jackson's call if he were to help her out or not. There was a slight noise as someone entered the room and Miller felt relief bloom in his chest, immediately recognizing the footsteps as Jackson's. There was a quiet, mournful sigh and he heard Jackson lay down on his bed.

Miller should be able to rest at ease now, but he couldn't. The sense of unease only increased, something wasn't right. He glanced down at Jackson's bed. The doctor had flopped onto it, on his stomach, face buried in his pillow. Miller's eyes narrowed as he realized Jackson was trembling. He frowned and rolled over, hands grabbing at the ladder that was attached to his bed. He began to descend, being as quiet as possible. Normally, he'd just jump but he didn't want to wake anyone. His feet touched the ground and he quickly covered the distance between himself and Jackson. He knelt by Jackson's bed and placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," he whispered, voice barely audible in the room. There was no response at first, so Miller shook him a bit. "Hey," he tried again.  After another long moment, Jackson shifted and turned to face him, eyes wide and sad, silent tears tracking down his cheeks. Miller was stunned for a moment before recovering. "What happened?"

"We'll have more rations starting tomorrow," Jackson explained quietly, voiced pained.

Miller understood instantly and his stomach crawled at what he imagined Jackson to be doing the last few hours. He grabbed Jackson's face gently. "Thank you," he whispered and Jackson's face crumpled a little and he shook his head, a strangled noise escaping his mouth. "Shhh, hey," Miller rushed to shush him, worried of waking the others. He pressed his mouth to each of Jackson's cheeks, tasting the salty tears. He leaned in, foreheads touching. "I love you so fucking much," he said with as much conviction as he could muster. Jackson remained quiet, eyes sad and searching Miller's. Miller kissed him hard, trying to convey just how he felt, desperate to offer some kind of comfort.

Jackson's response was weak, still trying to suppress the sobs. "I-I," he tried to get out but was shushed again by Miller.

"I know," Miller murmured, adding fiercely, "I love you." He crawled into the bed, running his hands down Jackson's arms reassuringly. He held him close, Jackson pressed firmly up against him, still shaking. Usually the two didn't share a bed, simply because the beds were so small, it was inconvenient. It didn't even cross Miller's mind now, how small the bed was or how uncomfortable his position was on it. None of it mattered. There was no way he would leave Jackson on his own tonight, not with the nightmares he was sure to be haunted by if he could even manage to get to sleep.

He wished Jackson would realize just how strong he was. Not many could help Abby with the portioning and remain sane. He buried his face into Jackson's hair, muttering another assurance of love. He could only hope he was strong enough to be a beacon for Jackson so he  _wouldn't_ lose his sanity while living in the bunker.


	7. bullets and beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the Early Days. Kind of exploring Miller's unquestioning loyalty to Octavia. Dialogue heavy. Octavia is a hard character to keep in character since she's so developed on the show, but I tried. This is just the first week in the bunker, right after she won the Conclave and they are still exploring parts of the bunker, discovering what all is there. 
> 
> Miller questioned authority on the Ark, committed treason when Pike was in charge, yet he remained incredibly loyal to Octavia all S5. Even in The Red Queen, we see that this loyalty started early on. And on with the story...

Bullets littered the floor everywhere Miller and Octavia stepped. Miller had discovered a hidden room and reported it to Octavia right away. He knelt down to grab some of the bullets, still stunned at just how well stocked this weapons room was. It was insanity, he'd never seen so many bullets, not even on the Ark. Bullets were the only thing in abundance in the bunker it seemed. Boxes of them lined the shelves in the room, the bullets scattered on the floor having spilled out of a few of the boxes. "What a weird thing for Becca to be obsessed about. Why so many?"

He voiced his thoughts aloud, not fully expecting Octavia to answer. They had yet to be down here for even a full week, not that anyone could tell. Day and night blurred together with no way to differentiate between the two. The lights blazed at all hours in the bunker. It felt like a lifetime ago that Miller's father had passed and at the same moment, it felt like it had just been a few hours. Jackson was the only breath of fresh air in this place and the only time he didn't feel like he was drowning was when he was in the other's presence.

There was a noise as Octavia shoved some of the boxes aside, seeing what was behind them. More boxes of bullets. She frowned, trying to work it out in her head why Becca would have stashed so many bullets down here. She couldn't come up with a good reason, even as a warrior, this was excessive and beyond overkill. There could only be one reason someone would have this much ammo stashed away. "She had to be planning to bring it somewhere else."

"Where?" Miller asked in wonderment, still amazed at the seemingly endless supply of bullets. This could likely last someone a couple decades.

"I don't know," Octavia admitted. "But that has to be it. She would have no reason to have  _this_ much ammo down here."

Miller nodded agreeably. "Yeah, but where would she go? And why would she need to defend herself? If they weren't in here, they'd be dead."

"I don't know," Octavia admitted. "Has to be some place out there and we just don't know it yet."

Miller said nothing while also rummaging through the boxes. Bullets, bullets, and more bullets. He sighed after a few minutes. "There's no bombs or explosives or anything like that. Just loads more ammo for the guns."

"Same over here." Octavia stopped rummaging and straightened up, a slight frown above her eyes. She glanced over at Miller who was still diligently checking through the boxes to make sure there was nothing hiding amongst them. "Hey, stop." Miller halted and looked questioningly over at her. Octavia folded her arms and leaned against the boxes with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I heard about your father. I didn't think…" she trailed off, unsure how to express what she felt.

"I don't want to talk about it," Miller rushed to get out. Octavia was the last person he wanted to talk to in regards to his father. It was an odd feeling, though. For whatever reason, he couldn't blame her for his father's death. He wasn't sure if it was still some sort of sentimental obligation to Bellamy or if he felt some kind of gratitude that she had included Skaikru, the ones who had rejected her since birth, in her effort to save humanity. He didn't understand it, but he definitely felt beholden to her. The apology didn't shatter the feeling, only intensified it instead.

"I _am_ sorry. I thought he'd make the list."

"He did," Miller interrupted her sharply. "I didn't." There was tense silence in the room while both were left to their own thoughts. Finally, Miller met Octavia's gaze. "I don't blame you," he stated slowly. He certainly wasn't  _okay_  with it, but he didn't pin her as the person to blame. Jaha, Kane, yes, maybe others. But not Octavia.

"Why don't you?"

It was a question Miller had asked himself hundreds of times since his father's fate. There was no tangible reason he could find. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I can't explain it."

Octavia allowed a small smile. "You were very loyal to my brother."

"When he wasn't being stupid," Miller was quick to point out. "Remember that I was not on board with the Pike stuff." Octavia stiffened for a minute. The "Pike stuff" was still all too fresh and something she tried to keep stowed away as far back in her mind as she could manage. They were memories she only visited when alone at night in the big, comfy bed that she often felt guilty for possessing while everyone else was crowded into tiny bunks. Indra was sharp and always quick to remind her she  _earned_ that bed and no one else did. The irony didn't escape some of the former Skaikru members who remembered her as the girl who spent years under the floor. Now she had her own room and an incredibly large bed.

"You were helpful," Octavia agreed. "We worked well together."

Miller flinched, hearing the strain in her voice. Of course this topic would lead back to Lincoln. "I'm sorry for how things turned out," he offered, vivid recollections of Octavia punching her brother bloody flashing through his mind. How she had screamed at him.

Octavia shook her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We did what we could."

"Still, I-"

"Hey, no more of that. We've all lost people we love," she was quick to remind him. This conversation had started with the loss of his father, after all. "Let's stay in the present. I see you have been getting on well with one of our doctors."

Miller glanced away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Yeah, we've been getting along."

Octavia bent down to pick up some of the bullets and deposited them back into one of the boxes. "Do you think you'll keep getting along?"

Miller frowned, confused where Octavia was going with this. "Probably? I don't really know, it's not like we've really talked about it."

"Really?" Octavia asked curiously. "What have you been doing? It's not like we're getting out of here anytime soon so you should have plenty of time to talk."

"There's not a whole lot of private places to talk, Octavia," Miller explained and noticed the guilt flash across her face. He hurried on, "It's fine, though, really, we're just happy we have space here."

"Oh? So you speak for him?" Octavia's mouth turned up in amusement. "Maybe you don't need to talk then."

"Where are you going with this, Octavia? I'm sure you got better things to be doing than keeping an eye on who I'm with."

"We're going to be down here for a long time, Miller."

"So I've heard."

"I don't want Abby to be the only doctor down here."

"She...isn't…."

"I don't think I need to ask this since you're already  _with_  him- your words. But make sure the grounders leave him alone.  It's going to take them a little bit to adapt to being Wonkru. I'm sure Kane will keep an eye on Abby. I just don't want anyone falling through the cracks especially those with medical knowledge. We need them both and we need them to start training others."

Miller raised his brows. "You're asking me to keep an eye on Jackson? You worried about the grounders trying to pull something?"

"I don't know what I am," she stated honestly. She wasn't sure if she was worried and she wasn't sure what she _was_  down in the bunker. Indra insisted she needed to be the Commander, the Heda, but that concept was just as foreign to Octavia as being the Chancellor on the Ark. She just wanted everyone to work together and accept one another, something she had craved as a child. She continued to try to explain herself, "But I'm sure I'm not exactly what the grounders want and Abby and Jackson aren't their idea of healers."

"Of course I will," Miller answered. Octavia actually looked relieved and he chuckled. "It's not like you even had to ask."

"I know. I also know that you'll listen to me and it's nice that there's someone here who will just listen to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone always questions me. I say something and Jaha, Kane, Abby, Indra, Gaia, and then everyone else who made it down here have a dozen things to say. It's refreshing not having someone question my every decision."

Miller frowned again, still not quite following. "You're Octavia, you won the Conclave, you decided the fate of everyone down here. You don't have to put up with their questions if you don't want to."

Octavia smiled. "Like I said, it's refreshing to be around someone who doesn't question me. I do have to put up with their questions because they're not the only ones asking them."

"Well, I won't question you," he assured her. And he knew it was true. He wouldn't. Again that feeling of being beholden to her came over him. Maybe it was the respect for authority his father had instilled in him at an early age on the Ark, maybe it was still just those feelings of needing to watch over Bellamy's little sister, or the fact that he, along with everyone else in the bunker, owed their life to her. He would be loyal to her until the end.

They worked in silence for awhile until all the bullets had been put back into the boxes. "Let's not tell anyone else about this. For now."

"You know I won't."


	8. Keeper of the Flame, Keeper of the Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little chapter with our favorite Flamekeeper!

Noise faded to the background as Gaia lowered herself to the floor by her bunk, legs crossing into lotus position. She closed her eyes and slowed her thoughts until she landed on the one thought that mattered.

_The Flame, the Commander._

She had to keep the Flame safe. She had stowed it away, saving it from Praimfaya, but her duty was not over. This was the reason she was alive, the reason for her existence. Her mother insisted the time of the Commanders was over, that now it no longer mattered. It was Octavia's time and while Gaia wasn't one hundred percent against Octavia, she was not a Natblida and she could not take on the Flame.

Gaia knew that there had to be a Natblida out there that had survived Praimfaya. She could almost hear the Flame crying out to become part of that Natblida. The Commander's people were down here and needed guidance. The Heda would unite all the people down here once again in a way Octavia would never be capable of. It was nothing personal against Octavia as Gaia tried to repeatedly explain to both Octavia and Indra, but this was just how things were.

The faith appreciated people like Octavia who could act as a placeholder until the real leader came around, but to most of the grounders, that's all Octavia would ever be: an interim Commander. At least that's all she would ever be to those with a grounder upbringing. Gaia wondered how all the remaining Skaikru members felt towards Octavia, if they felt some kind of loyalty to her for saving them or hatred for allowing around three hundred of their own to die.

Even so, Gaia knew that for the time being, everyone had to be loyal to Octavia, the rules of the bunker required loyalty to Wonkru and thus loyalty to Octavia. Kane was oddly obsessed with creating rules, but Gaia cared not so long as the Flame was kept safely in her possession.

She knew some of the others that shared her faith were fast losing it. That they were doubting there would ever be another Commander, that maybe the Flame was no longer useful, maybe there was no need for a Flamekeeper at all. She knew this was all false. The Flame spoke to her and her faith remained strong. She would just not be able to meet the new Commander until the bunker doors opened.

"Gaia!" A small voice called to her, bringing her out of her meditation and connection with the Flame and possibly the Natblida on the outside. She opened her eyes to find Ethan staring up at her curiously. "Can we do something fun today? I'm bored."

Of course the bunker was a harsh place for a child. It was harsh for adults so Gaia could only imagine someone of Ethan's age struggling through this life. It was a thought that often occurred to Gaia and it was terrifying- thinking that they wouldn't be able to experience the outside for years, not be able to touch a tree or see the sky. It also made her leery of what remained of Skaikru, they had survived without nature for so long and that was a crime against humanity as far as Gaia could tell. She was sure the Flame agreed with her sentiment, though sometimes she felt the Flame might want to visit space and see the stars up close. The Skaikru remnants made it sound like space wasn't so glamorous and that they preferred the ground.

"Gaia?!" Ethan asked again. "Are we doing something fun today?"

"Sit down, little one," Gaia instructed. He pouted but promptly did as told. "Let me tell you a story about the Commanders."


	9. San Junipero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR spoilers for Black Mirror Season 03EP04 (San Junipero). If you haven't seen it, go and watch it immediately (the episodes are all independent of each other so you can just go and watch it). Not sure if this really works, but I wanted to pay tribute to it somehow.  
> This chapter is under construction so read at your own risk. The tenses change and not sure when I'm going to actually edit it.

Several months slowly, agonizingly passed by. Those living in the bunker were deprived of the natural cycle of night and day. It was odd as the schedule didn't affect the survivors of Skaikru the same way it did the remaining members of the grounder clans. It got to a point where the Skaikru remnants were beseeching Octavia to please do something about it as the grounders were quickly losing their minds.

Octavia finally caved in and spoke with Kane regarding ways to possibly artificially recreate the natural day and night cycle. The best they could come up with was to turn the lights off at the same time, wait several hours, and then gradually allow the lights to come back on. For all they knew they were on the opposite schedule of the natural night and day cycle. There was no way to know being trapped in the bunker. Still, it seemed like the artificial cycle had calmed some of the grounders at least a little bit.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Miller asked one day after his shift. He was in his room with Jackson, Niylah, a Skaikru boy, Colby, Ivy, and Haley. "On the Ark, our lights were just always on, we never turned them off." Jackson wearily nodded his head in agreement. He was tired from another long day. It was all he could do to even keep his eyes open. He sat cross legged on his bed and offered up a tired smile to Miller, who leaned against the ladder attached to his bunk.

Niylah's interest was piqued and she leaned forward from her spot on her bunk. "Really? The lights were just always on all the time? You never experienced night and day?"

"Guess it was more like we experienced night all the time and never had day," Miller clarified.

"Oh," Niylah said, "Yes, that would make sense being that you were in space. Was it similar to how it is now in the bunker?"

Colby glanced down at them from his position. He shared a bunk with Jackson and had requested the top bunk. He was in his late teens and had been being trained as a farmer on the Ark. He had been showing interest in the medical field now especially since he shared a bunk with Jackson. Octavia had agreed to allow Colby to start training since they had a lack of grounder volunteers. Only Niylah had expressed interest and most grounders rejected her as one of their own.

Octavia was nervous having three people with medical knowledge in one room and stated that once Colby and Niylah advanced, she'd have to switch the rooms up. She had intentionally kept Jackson and Abby separate as it already set her on edge that they were together most of the day in Medical.

"We had more tech. This place has pretty great tech, but you remember the parts of our ship, they were way better." Colby stated matter-of-factly. Niylah nodded, she couldn't deny that the Ark's tech had been superior to even that of the bunker.

Haley and Ivy both glanced at Niylah with wide grins. "Yes!" Ivy exclaimed. "I love this game! Let's tell Niylah about all the cool stuff in space!"

Miller rolled his eyes. "It wasn't cool, it sucked."

"Yeah, well, you were sent to the Sky Box," Haley reminded him. She looked over at Niylah. "He's just bitter because he got caught breaking the law and was imprisoned."

"Hey!" Miller protested, but Ivy spoke over him.

"Yeah, don't listen to him. On the Ark, it was boring sometimes but we still had stuff to do so we wouldn't get bored after we finished our jobs."

"Like what?" Niylah prompted. It was weird. They played this game a lot: Niylah asked about the Ark and the former Ark inhabitants filled her in. She loved it, though, because every time she learned something new about the Ark. It amazed her that her fellow grounders weren't as curious as she was. They all said they were Wonkru, but Niylah saw the way the grounders regarded them, Skaikru was shunned and was the minority in the bunker.

"Oh! Oh!" Colby spoke up again. "Sometimes we watched old footage of tv shows."

"Footage of tv shows?" Niylah repeated, puzzled. It was clear she didn't understand. Miller grinned and lowered himself to sit next to Jackson on his bed, grabbing his hand and giving it a light squeeze. Jackson nodded at him again, still fighting to keep his eyes open. He enjoyed listening to the others reminisce about the Ark.

"Yeah," Miller chipped in. "They were like stories that you could watch."

"You didn't just imagine it? You  _watched_  it?" Niylah was stunned. This was the first time this had come up in all this time. The first couple months down here, most of her roommates had still been wary of her and she'd had to work hard to gain their trust. Haley and Ivy had started playing Round Robin with her at some point, but they had never talked much about the Ark up until a month ago. Niylah suspected her roommates were becoming increasingly homesick. She could relate, she wished so desperately to run through the fields or dip her hands into the water or see the sunlight through the tree branches. She wondered if any of Skaikru ached to see the stars up close again or see the Earth from space. She wondered if Clarke had made it to space and was staring down at the Earth right now.

"Exactly like that," Ivy confirmed. "You could pick a show from between 1878 and 2049."

Concern was in Niylah's eyes. "1878 to 2047? Isn't that not even two hundred years?"

"Bombs dropped and we weren't making movies or shows on the Ark," Miller explained with a shrug, "And you guys weren't making them on the ground."

"What about before 1878?" Niylah queried.

Haley giggled. "I forget that the grounders didn't have as much history as us on the Ark."

Jackson spoke up, "I'm sure they had lessons in history, just a different history than we might have had," he pointed out. He nearly always spoke up in defense of Niylah if he thought she might need it. He didn't want her own roommates to see her as an oddity as most grounders already did and most of the rest of Skaikru were still wary of her. Miller just smiled at his boyfriend's need to help.

Haley quickly rushed on, "Right, right, I meant nothing by it!"

"That's fine," Niylah reassured her. "Please tell me more about these stories. Why weren't they around before 1878?"

"They just hadn't been invented yet," Colby informed her.

"Oh, so they were relatively new tech?"

"Yeah, you could call them tech," Ivy said agreeably.

Niylah smiled at them. "So, tell me about some of the stories? A really good one. I'll just have to imagine it since we can't watch the stories down here."

"Oh, yes!" Haley exclaimed, practically clapping with excitement. "Let's tell Niylah a story. What should we tell her? A movie? A show? A series?"

Ivy leaned forward, "Ohh! What do you like, Niylah? Do you like romance? Or sad stories, or happy ones? Or do you like action? Or like, uhm, things that make you really think?"

"Or horror?!" Haley chipped in excitedly.

"Wow, there are so many options." Niylah was feeling a little overwhelmed.

"Let's not do anything that's too long. Remember we all need to get rest and some of us have work soon," Jackson piped up again, reminding them all that they didn't have an endless amount of time to spare. He needed rest for his next shift and since he'd gotten Niylah and Colby on board as his trainees, they would both need rest, too. Miller would need some rest, too. Haley and Ivy both had upcoming shifts in less than two hours.

"So something short, like a short story," Ivy summed up. "Kind of like a one shot but not a movie." She ducked her head. "Hmmm, trying to think of a good one."

"What kind of story do you like?" Colby repeated an earlier question to Niylah.

"I suppose I like a happy story," she decided. After all, it was hard enough down here, she didn't really need another sad story.

"A short, happy story," Colby summed up. "Anybody got one?"

Miller grinned at them. "I do."

"Not a horror story story, Nathan," Ivy was quick to remind him.

"I know, it's not! Any of you ever watch that show  _Black Mirror_ from the 2010s? It was basically a bunch of one shot episodes."

Ivy and Haley shook their heads. "I never went farther back than 2025," Ivy admitted.

"I mostly watched black and white films," Colby explained. Niylah was increasingly confused.

"Wait, you watched these shows in different colors?"

"The old ones were black and white," Jackson patiently explained to her. "Then there were ones in color, too."

Niylah was impressed. "Wow." She looked over at Miller. "Tell us more about this  _Black Mirror."_

Miller glanced at Jackson. "Did you ever watch it?" Jackson shook his head.

"I mostly watched medical documentaries," he admitted.

"You guys really missed out," Miller informed them all. "But that's okay. I have an episode that I think would be perfect for Niylah. It's about San Junipero."

"What's that?" Ivy asked.

"It's a place," Miller replied. "No interruptions." He went on, his voice full of expression as he narrated the tale. "So this chick, tall with glasses, decides to visit this place San Junipero to see what it's all about. She winds up in the 1980s, an era where hair was big and outfits were crazy and brightly colored, music was loud and advanced tech was just being invented. It was when computers and games and space exploration had just become reality and were being advanced. The world hadn't become a global community yet but people were starting to travel more.

So this chick is drawn to this era and she finds it in San Junipero. She has never really associated with anyone since she was a girl, never had any romantic outings. In the show, though, you don't know that yet. This chick's name is Yorkie.

Yorkie goes to a club, a place you go to dance and meet people and have a good time, and decides to check it out. She's extremely awkward and has no social skills at all. It's almost like she hasn't interacted with humans in years. A guy tries to hit on Yorkie but it's pretty clear she isn't interested. She keeps just hanging around unsure what to do. She spots another chick, Kelly.

Kelly is attractive and out with a guy, Wes, that is obviously into her. She keeps telling him she's just there for fun and not planning to stay there forever. That she doesn't want to be in San Junipero forever, she just wants to visit for a couple months and then move on to the next place. She spots Yorkie sitting alone and decides to use her as a way to get away from Wes for a little bit. She slides into the booth and pretends that Yorkie is an old friend and just found out she was going to die soon. Yorkie plays along perfectly. Wes leaves frustrated." Miller laughs a little at what he's about to say next. "The girls introduce themselves and Kelly cracks a joke about Yorkie's name."

Niylah interrupts him, confused, "Why?"

"Yeah, why?" Ivy repeated, also confused. Niylah is relieved that finally some of the others are on her level.

"It was a type of dog breed," Jackson explains from his spot on the bed. His head had fallen onto Miller's shoulder at some point.

Miller nods. "Exactly. So Kelly makes fun of Yorkie's name because it is an odd name for a person especially in that day and age. Anyway, Kelly loves to dance and decides that Yorkie should, too. Yorkie insists that she doesn't dance, but Kelly insists and leads her to the dance floor. Now all these people are just dancing together in this room, different colored lights flashing across them, the music blaring loudly, people just jamming. Kelly is amazing at it and it's obvious Yorkie is uncomfortable and has no clue what to do. Soon, to Yorkie, everyone looks absolutely amazing on the dance floor and she gets it in her head that everyone is staring at her because she is so awkward. She runs out of the club's back entrance all freaked out. Kelly keeps dancing until she realizes Yorkie is gone.

Kelly finds Yorkie outside and they start to talk. Yorkie talks about her fiance and how her family doesn't want her to marry him and Kelly talks some about her past. It's weird because they talk like they've been alive for awhile but they both appear to be rather young. Kelly tries to hit on Yorkie but Yorkie freaks out a bit and refuses. She decides to leave but at the last second, changes her mind, and turns around only to find that Kelly has already left.

The next week Yorkie finds Kelly at the club again and they flirt and then wind up back at Kelly's place. They have a good time, a  _really good time,"_ Miller emphasizes with a waggle of his brows, making sure Niylah is understanding him. "After, Yorkie admits it was her first time. At midnight, Kelly disappears.

So another week passes, and Yorkie looks for Kelly and can't find her. Then another week and another week. Yorkie finds Wes and asks him if he's seen Kelly and he responds strangely saying that maybe Kelly is in a different era, maybe even 2002, he says she's worth a shot, right? Yorkie takes his advice and does find Kelly in a different era and accuses her of hiding from her."

Niylah frowns, unable to stay silent any longer. "What do you mean by era? And are they going to different ones? How?"

Miller smiles. "An era is a different time period and we'll get to how they're skipping around shortly," he assures her. He continues the story. "So, Yorkie finally finds Kelly. Kelly admits she's been dodging Yorkie because she's worried she'll develop feelings for her and she's near death. They have another really good time. They start talking about where they actually live."

"I thought they lived in San Junipero?" Ivy asked. Niylah nodded.

Miller shook his head. "Nah, it turns out that San Junipero is actually a simulated reality."

"What's that mean?" Niylah asked.

"A fake reality," Miller explained, "Like another world you live in- kind of like The City of Light," he said. He noticed how most in the room, including Jackson, stiffened at the mention of the City of Light.

"Isn't that a bad thing?" Colby asked, a little unnerved at the mention of the City of Light.

"Well, San Junipero isn't a bad place and it doesn't intend to destroy the world like ALIE did so it's a good place. Kelly and Yorkie are actually both elderly ladies on the cusp of death. Kelly goes to visit Yorkie since they really don't live that far from each other in reality. Yorkie is paraplegic and has been since she was 21. Her fiance is just a sham so he'll sign off for her to live in San Junipero permanently after her physical death. Kelly decides to propose to Yorkie in San Junipero and they get married in both reality and San Junipero.

Yorkie begs Kelly to sign up to stay in San Junipero, too. It turns out that Kelly had a husband she'd been with for nearly fifty years. They had raised and lost a daughter together. Kelly feels obligated to pass away like her husband and daughter did despite her feelings for Yorkie. She tells Yorkie that her daughter never got the opportunity to stay in San Junipero, her husband refused for that reason, so how could she then stay when they didn't? Kelly knows how much Yorkie cares for her and wants her to be there. She also knows that Yorkie didn't get a very good shot at life and didn't have the same kind of relationship experience she did. She agonizes over it. We see her in the real world as she ages more and gets sicker with a nurse watching over her. Then she's in hospice care. Finally, towards the end, she tells her nurse that she's ready."

Niylah, Ivy and Haley were all leaning forward with keen interest. Colby was half paying attention. Miller wasn't sure but he thought Jackson was dozing by now.

"What happened?" Niylah asked.

"Yeah, what did Kelly decide?" Ivy prompted.

"I hope she decided to stay in San Junipero," Haley stated.

Ivy shook her head. "I don't know. She wouldn't have her husband or daughter there."

"But Yorkie is there and she loves her, too," Niylah pointed out. She looked over at Miller again. "I thought you said this would be happy."

Miller allows a soft smile. "Yeah. The nurse asks Kelly what she's ready for. And Kelly says she's ready for the rest of it. We see Yorkie on the beach in San Junipero and, for a minute, we don't know if Kelly decided to stay or not. But then Yorkie is at Kelly's house and we see that Kelly _did_ decide to stay in San Junipero after all. The show ends with them happy and laughing and dancing in San Junipero and implies they'll be there for eternity."

"So, it is a happy story," Niylah murmurs with a smile. "San Junipero. It sounds lovely."  Miller glances at Jackson dozing on his shoulder and nods in agreement. 


	10. Rules and Regulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Kane enjoying the Bunker.

The rules were harsh and Kane regretted helping put them into place.

No one was to speak ill of Octavia or Wonkru. No one was to speak of their food rations or complain about them. No one was to whine about the small bunks. There would be no stealing, no fights. There were to be no uprisings, no insurgencies, no speak of revolt. No killing. No one was to have children without express permission from the authority figures, mainly Octavia. Though she would take Abby and Jackson's word into account as they could report to her if the woman was healthy enough to have the baby.

If one was to hear of talk regarding  _any_  of these matters, they were to report it to Octavia right away. If it wasn't reported, that was a crime. Kane had once thought these rules would help keep order in the Bunker. That it would control and prevent the inhabitants of it from descending into madness. It was an assumption that he regretted now.

He had spent time convincing Abby and then Octavia and Indra to agree to these rules. Surprisingly, Indra agreed to most of the rules right away. There were a couple she wasn't fond of, but she understood the need for the rules and she supported Octavia and wanted her to succeed. Octavia didn't want to implement Ark rules right away, much less ones that had brought her own family such pain and suffering but, after a couple weeks, she began to understand the need for strict structure within such a small space.

It killed her a little to agree to the rules and then to announce them in the cafeteria. There had been so many groans and voices of protest. She had managed to shut everyone down quickly, threatening to lock them up. There had only been two people in lock up since life in the Bunker had begun.

Now, though, Kane felt horror and regret and the urge to upchuck what little bit of food he'd had as he watched another fight in the pit. Now when the rules he created were broken, people weren't sent to lock up. They were sent to the pit, a fight to the death similar to how the gladiators had entertained audiences in the Roman Empire.

It shouldn't bother him to this degree. If the rules were broken on the Ark, people were floated, it resulted in death. Really, Octavia's method was kinder than the system on the Ark had been- the fighting pits allowed the possibility for someone to survive. There was no possibility of survival when one was floated.

Still, Kane couldn't help but wonder if he would have been more flexible with the rules had he known breaking them would result in landing people in the fighting pits. He had thought death as the answer to rule breaking was off the table now that they'd left the Ark behind and started anew on Earth; he'd hoped for this, anyway. He much preferred the idea of those that broke the rules being locked up especially since some of the rules wouldn't apply if they weren't trapped in the Bunker. Just as some of the rules wouldn't have applied on the Ark if they'd had more flexibility.

He hated that they were back to this inflexibility again. It was odd. At first, he'd embraced this inflexibility again, finding it a comfort, a reminder of old times while he was stuck in the Bunker with so many people that had never experienced life on the Ark. Now he desperately wished for flexibility.

Kane hated coming to the pits but he forced himself to visit often. Mostly because there wasn't a ton to do down here and he definitely wasn't motivated to create any more rules. The pits were a reminder to him that there were always consequences to every action. It was a numbing experience watching people fight to the death over and over again.

Sometimes they fought because they'd committed a horrible crime- one person murdered someone in a rage. He fought a young person that had muttered discontent with Wonkru. Sometimes they were sent to the pit for ridiculous reasons, reasons he'd helped put into place. When he'd created the rules, he figured a few weeks in lock up, it had never occurred to him these people would be forced to a fight to the death for breaking those rules.

He exhaled deeply as he watched yet another body hit the floor and another victor screamed that they were victorious. The chanting around him faded to the background as he wondered what Jaha's response would have been to this. Jaha had helped with the rules, too.  _Oh, Thelonious, what have we done?_


	11. Happy Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying a little something new with names. Using first names in the narrative instead of last. Since Miller and Abby call Eric "Jackson" in canon in S5, they will still refer to him as such. I notice in forums that a lot of people say it's odd that Abby and Jackson didn't really train anyone in the Bunker so I'm throwing in trainees (and killing them) throughout the stories.

Nathan stared intently at Eric, trying to push down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. His boyfriend lay in a bed in Medical, weak and tired. There had been a viral infection and Eric had unfortunately caught it. Five people had already died from the illness so Nathan's worry was well warranted. He dropped into the chair by the bed and grabbed Eric's hand, knowing the gesture was more to reassure himself than offer comfort to his boyfriend. By Nathan's count, it had been one thousand, two hundred and twenty-three days in the Bunker, or nearing four years. Nathan felt like he was starting to drown in worry. Eric had been incapacitated for two days, he'd been sick for six. The five that had passed had been sick for a total of eight days and Eric was following the same pattern.

"Nathan," Abby's voice cut through the worry that was overwhelming Nathan's mind and causing tears to prick at his eyes. He glanced up at Abby. She shook her head at him. "I told you, you need a face mask in here." She herself had one that both Octavia and Kane had practically ordered her to keep on 24/7 when Eric had fallen ill.

"What's the point? It didn't save Jackson," he pointed out, recalling how his boyfriend had been wearing a mask. Abby was sympathetic.

"He treated some of the first patients without a mask before we realized what it was. Do you really think Jackson would want this for you?" Abby asked of him. "Please, put it on," she pleaded with him, offering up a face mask. Becca had stocked a surprising amount of them in the Bunker. Nathan grabbed it and reluctantly put it on. Abby and Niylah were both busy checking on patients. They had moved mattresses into Medical from bunks that were no longer used because so many people had caught the virus. Five had passed and seven were now in Medical, all weak and practically non-responsive. More had been quarantined into a room and Abby had begged Octavia to make everyone in the Bunker create a face mask of sorts and wear it for the time being until she could figure out a cure.

With Eric unable to help, only Abby, Niylah, and Essi, a grounder that had been trained in medical, were able to tend to the patients. There had been other trainees, such as Colby and another grounder, Ica, but Colby had wound up in the fighting pit and then as food. Ica had been killed in a small uprising during the Dark Year. People were already starting to suspect that those in Medical were cursed down in the Bunker what with Abby addicted, the trainees dying, and Niylah, who was viewed as an oddity among grounders. Now with Eric catching the virus, their suspicions were only confirmed. Octavia feared it would be nearly impossible to get anyone else to volunteer in Medical and she would have to start forcing people.

Abby squeezed Nathan's shoulder. "He'll make it, he's strong," she insisted, though Nathan wondered if she was trying to convince herself or him as she was clearly fighting off her own tears. "He'll be okay, he'll make it."

Nathan nodded at her. "Yeah, he'll make it," he agreed, not sure if he was speaking for his own benefit, hers, or both of theirs. "He has to." Abby said nothing else and walked away to check on another patient, leaving Nathan alone with Eric. She had allowed family or significant others in to see their loved ones. She didn't like it, but they had begged. She certainly wasn't going to say no to Nathan or not allow Eric, who was one of her closest friends, the privilege of seeing the man he loved before he died. She screwed her eyes shut tightly and told herself she refused to think like that.  _Jackson will make it, he has to._

Nathan stared at Eric silently for a few moments before gently speaking to him. "Hey, Jacks, I'm here." He leaned closer and squeezed Eric's hand a little tighter. "You have me and Abby real worried, you know? You just keep getting sicker like the others." His voice became heavy with emotion as he leaned even closer so he knew no one else could hear him. "Please don't leave me here, Jackson, please-  _Eric,_ I don't-I can't. I need you here." He was quiet again as some tears leaked out the corner of his eyes. He was terrified. He'd been terrified a lot in life, one of the most intense feelings of terror he could remember facing was that his father might not get in the Bunker or when he and his friends were all about to be murdered by the Mountain Men for bone marrow.

This was a new kind of terror, a horror he'd never experienced before. Now he understood. When you loved someone so deeply and the devastation at the thought of losing them. He understood why his father had chosen him in his place, he realized why people sacrificed for others. It was a painful understanding. He would switch places with Eric if he could. He also understood now why Eric had been so angry with him the year or so before when Nathan had landed in the fighting pit and not taken the out Octavia had given him. Eric had been so distraught and upset, though Nathan had been absolutely confident he'd be fine, which he was. Now he truly understood what he had put Eric through and he felt absolutely contrite. There would be no making up for it if Eric didn't survive this sickness.

Eric coughed and Nathan's heart practically leapt out of his chest that there was any stirring from Eric. For the last twelve hours, he'd just been a prone, silent figure on the bed. "Jackson?" he asked hesitantly.

Eric blinked and then blinked again rapidly as if trying to get his bearings. "Nate?" he whispered and Nathan's heart broke at how hoarse and unrecognizable the voice was.

"I'm right here, Jackson," Nathan rushed to assure him. "I'm right here," he repeated, ignoring the way his own voice broke and not caring about the tears that were trickling down his cheeks and off his face, some right onto Eric as he hovered over him. Eric slowly reached a hand up to touch one of Nathan's cheeks. Nathan gratefully leaned into the touch. He grabbed the hand to keep it in place, fearful it would drop any moment and Eric would go back to being non-responsive.

"You're crying." It was obvious that speech took a lot of effort on Eric's part, just as it was clear that it hurt him to talk.

"You're sick," Nathan responded despondently. "You're really sick."

Eric smiled sadly, attempting to nod but finding it to require more energy than he cared to expend. "Yeah."

Alarmed at his easy agreement, Nathan found himself pleading again, "Please, you got to fight it, I can't do this on my own down here, Jackson."

Eric's smile remained grim. "Hey, it'll be okay, Nate, it'll be fine."

Nathan managed a strangled laugh at the fact that Eric was the one offering comfort despite being on his deathbed. "Only if you stay with me." Eric's eyes slid closed for a long moment and Nathan found himself in a panic again, wondering when those eyes would open again. After several agonizing moments, Eric cracked them back open.

"Hey," he managed weakly. Nathan leaned in even closer to hear him better. "Remember that story you told?"

"Which one?" Nathan asked. After nearly four years, he had told a ton of stories, he could hardly pinpoint just one.

"San Junipero."

"Okay, yeah, what of it?"

"I'll wait for you there."

Nathan's heart nearly stopped and his blood froze. "No, no, no.  _No._  You already went to the City of Light, Jackson, you don't get two simulated realities." Eric just stared up at him, resignation in his eyes. Nathan looked around frantically. "Abby!  _Abby!"_ He all but screamed, ignoring how Eric cringed at the loudness. "Abby, hurry, Jackson needs you. He's delirious!" A small part of Nathan realized that  _he_ was the delirious one. Judging by the kindness and affection in Eric's eyes, Nathan was sure he thought the same.

Abby was there within seconds. She smiled brightly at seeing her colleague awake. "Jackson, you're awake. We've all been so worried."

There was heaviness in Eric's chest realizing that Abby had been crying, too. Both Nate and Abby were messes and he was partly responsible. Vivid memories of the first two people that passed popped into his mind; he wasn't so sure he'd be able to beat this. He didn't want to leave them behind- Abby without her daughter and addicted to pills. He certainly didn't want to leave Nate- the Bunker had already claimed his father. He attempted another smile but knew it didn't reach his eyes. "Still here," he mumbled lowly, trying to reassure her and Nathan.

"He doesn't think he's going to make it," Nathan all but sobbed to Abby. It was like Eric was being torn in two at the sight. His body was quickly succumbing to the sickness and begging for him to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but his heart kept his eyes open, wanting to offer his lover any kind of comfort he could. He was so weak, though.

"Make it, I promise," he managed to mutter before allowing his eyes to close and the darkness to overtake him again.

"Jackson!" Nathan exclaimed, carefully placing his arm back on the bed and resting his forehead against the other's. "Please, you have to make it." Abby's own heart broke at the sight and it was as if she was suffocating.

"It will be fine," Niylah's voice was confident and caused both Abby and Nathan to jerk their heads towards her in surprise. She walked over and smiled serenely at them both. "Jackson will make it," she reassured them.

"How do you know?" Nathan asked hopefully. When hope was dangled before a desperate person, they latched onto it.

Abby frowned, confused. "How _do_ you know, Niylah?"

"You and Jackson had been studying how to make a vaccine for this. I figured it out."

"We can't know that without testing it," Abby protested.

"What does it matter? If we test it on them, they have a chance of survival. Otherwise, they'll certainly die."

"Do it, inject him," Nathan instructed Niylah with no further questions.

"Nathan, we don't know that it'll cure him. It might do more harm than good."

"If he-if he's going to-" Nathan couldn't spit out the word die. "Look, I'd rather know we tried everything, wouldn't you?"

Abby looked away for a moment before also voicing her agreement. "Yes, I want to make sure we did everything. Niylah, go ahead with the injection then."

Niylah all but glowed at being given the chance to try out the vaccination she'd completed. It was so odd some of the stuff Becca had stocked in the Bunker while leaving out other essentials. Materials, such as antigen among others, to make vaccinations were one thing Becca had thrown into Medical. Abby supposed it wasn't that surprising that the woman who had essentially been responsible for the City of Light and the destruction of the world would have the foresight to think of things such as vaccinations or the need to create new ones.

Niylah injected Eric under the watchful eyes of Nathan and Abby. Nathan refused to leave Eric's side, not even for his scheduled shift. Abby had Kane notify Octavia and she found someone to cover for him.

Eric woke up several hours later, still feeling weak but not nearly as weak as before. Nathan was slumped over on his bed, fingers still lightly gripping Eric's hand even in sleep. Eric moved his hand to run it absently over Nathan's face, before moving it to the nape of Nathan's neck and gently massaging it. After only a minute or so, Nathan came out of his fitful sleep, having had nothing but nightmares. He lifted his head off the bed and Eric's hand fell away from his neck. He locked eyes with Eric and immediately felt joy at the sight that greeted him. Eric looked ten times better than he had just eight hours before. His eyes were focused and he actually looked rested.

"Jackson?" Nathan asked quietly, almost fearfully, scared he might just be dreaming this and would be woken up by Abby or Niylah any moment with the most terrible news imaginable to him.

"It's really me. Abby and Niylah must have figured out the formula for a vaccination that works."

Nathan made a sound of simultaneous relief and happiness and leaned forward, wanting to kiss Eric into oblivion, but he was promptly stopped. "No," Eric scolded. "Not until we're absolutely sure it's one hundred percent gone and, besides," he motioned at Nathan's mouth, reminding him he still had on a face mask.

Nathan just laughed and threw his arms around Eric, hugging him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder with relief and happiness. He had really nearly died. If Niylah hadn't finished the vaccination, Eric would have been another victim to the virus. There was so much relief and gratitude in his bones, Nathan didn't know what to do with it all except to squeeze Eric a little more just to make sure he was still really there and still really alive.

Niylah watched the pair as she tended to another patient who was recovering from the illness, having also been injected with the vaccination. Abby was suddenly by her side. "You did it, Niylah, I'm so proud of you."

Niylah beamed at her then looked back to Eric and Nathan. "I much prefer happy endings." Abby laughed and nodded, also in tears from relief.


	12. the most horrifying part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miller being introspective while patrolling. Another no dialogue chapter.

The air was heavy and it was so warm everywhere. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape, privacy was a dream, and peace wasn't a word with a definition in this new world. Miller wandered around the halls, he knew them like the back of his hand now. He'd only been up and down them a gazillion times, there wasn't much else to do in the bunker except try to break up fights.

The grounders still found reasons to fight amongst themselves even with how small their factions had become. Miller was loathe to admit it, but sometimes his own Skaikru members would become petty and find reasons to engage in the fighting, too. Octavia was doing her best, but she was having trouble keeping everyone together.

The Bunker was such a bizarre place, like it's own oxymoron. He remembered how unbelievably huge the place had seemed when it had just been around four hundred Skaikru people within its walls. There were different levels within the Bunker, large enough that uprisings could start and the leaders could take control of one level. Yet at the same time, the Bunker seemed impossibly small.

Once you reached the end of one level, you went to the next. You could attempt to get away from someone by going to another level, but you were soon found out. Not only that, but one of the early rules Kane and Jaha had decided on was that no one was to hide anywhere. They had been understandably worried about would-be assassins. A legitimate concern, of course. Yet now, even those that hid just to make out, play games, or just wanted quiet time that their bunks didn't afford them were thrown into the fighting pits. Any disobedience to the rules made you an enemy of Wonkru.

It was a horrifying thing, really. The fighting pits. Not for the first time, he wondered if the gladiators of the Roman Empire were thrown into a fight for their lives based on crimes as petty as stealing medicine, speaking of disliking tight living quarters, or complaints about rations. The most horrifying part, though, was watching someone you knew, someone you once considered a friend, fight for their lives in the pits. Sometimes they were able to get a kill in, only to be killed themselves. Those that survived the pits usually transformed into a different person with a few exceptions.

For Miller, the worst part of the fighting pits was when Jackson was with him, watching the fights. It was clear how disturbed the doctor was and how it broke his heart to watch some of those he knew meet their end. As far as Miller was concerned, as long as none of the people in the fighting pits were Jackson, it was fine. He had concern for Octavia, but knew she'd never end up in the pits, besides she could handle herself. The concern for Jackson extended to Abby only for Jackson's sake, as he deeply cared for his colleague.

Miller still cared deeply for others, but once they broke the rules, they became an enemy of Wonkru and their only chance for redemption was to fight their way out of the pits. He knew that secretly, not everyone agreed with the method. No one was allowed to voice disagreement with Octavia's methods. Like always, Miller didn't fault Octavia. It was smart on her part to quickly deal with anyone that might become a problem or encourage others to cause problems. There was definitely a strategy behind all of Octavia's rules, you could almost see Jaha's shadow behind her every time she spoke of those that were the enemy of Wonkru.

He came to the end of another hallway on yet another level. He knew all the levels, all the hallways, and all the rooms within each one like he'd been living in the Bunker since birth. He suspected some of the other guards had memorized the Bunker as well, and had the blueprints embedded in their mind. Most of the other guards were just assigned to one level, but several, including those such as himself and Indra were assigned to all levels. You were only assigned to all levels if Octavia had placed a deep amount of trust in you. As it were, only nine guards had the privilege of patrolling all levels. Other guards were kept to one or two levels for patrols, though everyone was allowed on every level.

Another privilege Miller was afforded was patrolling the pits when it was in use. Octavia had a schedule that they all strictly followed. He couldn't say he loved patrol during the pits, but he liked that it put him closer to her as he was always concerned about another insurgency being planned on a level somewhere, threatening to overthrow Blodreina. If he was near, he knew nothing would happen to her. At the end of the day, some might complain about her, but Miller remembered the girl in the dropship when they were still nothing more than a bunch of delinquents.

He remembered the girl who had flirted with Jasper, the girl who had helped save them in Mount Weather, the girl who had tried to stop a war during Pike's run as Chancellor, and the girl who had decided that all people were equal and should have an equal piece of the Bunker.

His thoughts turned back to Jackson. He hated that someone with such a gentle soul had wound up in such a harsh place. He knew Jackson wouldn't agree with his sentiment, he had practically said as much before, Jackson didn't think he deserved sympathy or even to be considered a healer. Still, he remained in Medical at Octavia's behest. Like Miller, Jackson also felt beholden to her. He didn't fault her for the rules or the consequences of the rules, though they seemed to unfairly affect he and Abby.

The fighting pits weren't the most horrifying thing about the Bunker. Miller wished it was. He sometimes wondered if his friends had made it to space and if they ever made it back, what they would think of Wonkru. He wondered what Bellamy, Clarke, Monty, Harper, Emori, Raven, and Murphy would think. He could guess that Murphy and Emori would adapt rather easily like he had, those two had the same survival instinct he possessed, though he wasn't quite as willing to sacrifice others as those two were- he wondered if he should try to be more like those two. Monty and Harper, he was sure they would be horrified, he could guess that much easily. He wasn't sure how Raven, Clarke, or Bellamy would react. Those three always surprised him. He knew Bellamy would protect his sister, but beyond that, he couldn't guess.

His mind turned back to the most horrifying part of the Bunker. They were trapped down here indefinitely. The tower had buried the entrance. It might be like the Ark or Mount Weather, maybe they would be down here for nearly a hundred years before being able to get out. It might take a couple generations. He sometimes wondered what they would eat, how they would survive. But he knew how, they all did. Those from the Ark especially understood as much as they hated to admit it. This could very well be the rest of their lives.

He realized he really couldn't decide what was the most horrifying part.


	13. Yes, I do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exploring more of the Dark Year and Inner Workings.

Chanting filled the air as there were shouts for death and cheers for those doling out death blows. The crowd was in good form on this day. The Dark Year seemed to have brought out a new kind of participation in the fighting pits, almost a desperate desire to be distracted from the reality they were living in.

Miller leaned up against the fence that kept people from jumping out of the pits or others from jumping in while it was in use. There were four people down there. Of course, he knew all of them. After a year or so it was hard to not know or at least be aware of each other. It was different from the Ark. On the Ark the stations were separated, independent of each other, and didn't usually join up for years at a time, so it was possible to not run into people. In the Bunker, all the levels were connected in some form or fashion.

There was movement next to him and Miller sensed Jackson's presence before he actually saw him. He turned to regard his boyfriend with concern. "Hey," he ventured, "you don't have to be here for this." He had instantly recognized one of the fighting pit's participants as Colby, Jackson's bunk mate and medical trainee.

Colby had stolen medical supplies at the end of one of his shifts in Medical. Jackson hadn't made a big deal about, trying to find his pupil and simply put the supplies back. However, they were all found out. Miller was fortunate that it had been Octavia herself who had found them. Otherwise, Miller suspected Jackson would be down there, too. He knew Octavia would have had no choice and he knew the only reason she hadn't thrown him in there was because of his medical knowledge. A small part of him liked to think she did it as a favor to him as well, but he didn't think it in his best interest to inflate his ego.

At any rate, Miller didn't think it was in Jackson's best interest to watch Colby in the fighting pit. Judging by the looks of the other three people in there with him, the odds of his survival were pretty low. There might be one person he could take out, but definitely not all three. Wages had been placed and no one had bet on him.

Jackson simply nodded his head in response and replied in a clear voice, "Yes. I do."

Miller frowned at him. "No, you really don't. Jackson, it's not good for you to see this." He didn't want Jackson's last memories of his bunk mate and trainee to be being stabbed viciously in the arena. Jackson leaned against the fence and cast sad eyes upon the fighting pit, easily scoping Colby out.

"I really do," Jackson repeated resolutely. "I owe him this much."

"You don't owe him anything," Miller whispered fiercely with a shake of his head. "You didn't make him steal, this is on him."

"I should have-"

"Hey!" Miller grabbed Jackson's shoulders firmly and roughly turned him so he could see his face. "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault." Jackson opened his mouth to respond but was cut short by Gaia's voice rising above the chants of the crowd, urging them all to pray before the fights began. Miller and Jackson turned away from each other to face the fighting pit and mutter their prayer.

Jackson watched as Colby attempted to fight one of the other criminals in the fighting pit. He quickly lost and soon he was nothing more than an empty shell with vacant eyes staring up at the ceiling that kept them trapped beneath the Earth's surface. Jackson stared at him mutely. Soon he would have to help Abby roll him to the kitchen. Jackson couldn't tear his eyes away from Colby's prone form until Miller was shaking him, unease in his own eyes at his boyfriend's drawn face. "Jackson? Hey, answer me," he insisted, trying to keep his voice calm and steady, not wanting to draw any attention their way.

Jackson blinked and his mouth stretched slightly as if attempting a resigned smile. "Sorry, I spaced out for a minute. I'm fine."

Miller raised a brow at the statement. "Are you?"

"I have to be," Jackson easily responded. It was true, Abby was addicted to pills and not acting completely stable. Niylah was still being trained. They had just lost a trainee. He had no choice but to keep it together. Miller squeezed his shoulder with affection and reassurance.

"Come on, let's go."

It was two months later and Miller found himself watching yet another fight in the fighting pits. He had been to many in the past two months since Colby's demise, but this was the first that brought back memories of that fight. Another of the Medical trainees had been thrown into the pit. This one had been Abby's pupil but Miller knew that Jackson knew him well, too. He had been one of the two grounders that Octavia had stationed in Medical from the very start. Almon.

He knew a lot of people within the Bunker believed Medical to be cursed and he was starting to fear it was. He hated what The Dark Year was doing to both Jackson and Abby. Abby had begun to act a little unstable, Miller half suspected she was on something, though Jackson would never confirm it. Jackson himself had become withdrawn and more reticent than normal. Getting him to talk about things was akin to pulling teeth out.

Still, Miller loved him dearly and loved that Jackson cared so deeply for so many. He knew that it was that want to help that made Jackson itch to run into the fighting pits and start patching people up. But he knew Jackson knew better, he wouldn't. He also knew that suppressing that urge to help and heal was what was making Jackson even quieter than normal.

Again, Miller felt his boyfriend's presence before he saw him. He sighed deeply. "Jackson. You don't need to be here for this." He desperately wished Jackson would follow Abby's lead and simply stay away from the fighting pits as much as possible. Abby only went when she was required. Jackson went more often and it unnerved Miller. Granted, Miller went the most out of the three, but often he was there on patrol.

Jackson just leaned against the fence, hands grabbing on the wires that separated him from the fighting pit. "Yes, I do," he murmured softly as he watched Almon and two others circle each other in the pit.

Miller ran a weary palm across his face, wishing he could make the other understand. "Jackson, you don't owe him anything. Look, just because he was training in Medical doesn't mean he's your responsibility."

"It's more than that," Jackson said lowly, not taking his eyes off Almon.

"What? What else is it? Enlighten me."

Jackson glanced away from the fight, sparing Miller a look but only for a moment. "You wouldn't understand."

"That's not fair," Miller protested. "You don't know that. Try me."

Almon made a loud noise in the pit and Jackson winced, recognizing the pain and desperation that tinged the shout. He had taken one person out. Almon was a large grounder, but he had been pitted against two other large grounders. Unfortunately, the other two grounders seemed to have formed a temporary alliance against him. Almon managed to take one of them out, but not before being gravely injured himself. It was almost too easy for the other grounder to finish Almon off and yell his victory shout with the crowd cheering for him.

Miller gave Jackson a hard look. "Try me," he repeated.

Jackson bit his lip and shook his head. "Nate, I have to. You don't have to…  _see_  them later."  _Cut them up._

"And this makes it easier? Watching them die?" Miller looked as doubtful as he sounded.

Jackson shrugged and looked away from Miller, choosing to stare at Almon instead. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "But I think it would be worse to not know. At least most of the time, it's quick. I like knowing that and not wondering if they withered in agony. Knowing helps a little."

Miller glanced away from both Jackson and and the fighting pit, feeling the weight of the Bunker in a way he hadn't quite felt it before. He closed his eyes briefly, wondering what kind of anguish Jackson kept locked away and deeply hidden. When he saw glimpses of it like this, his heart became heavy and he wished he had some kind of healing ability, but he was a fighter. He couldn't heal. He could only keep fighting. "A small mercy," he finally whispered. The crowd had begun to disburse and the two dead were being dragged away.

Jackson's lips stretched as though wanting to smile, but it seemed as if they no longer could. At least not a true smile. Since the Dark Year began, Miller couldn't remember the last time Jackson had managed a smile. Jackson met Miller's eyes finally and gave a slight nod. "You do understand."

"Yes, I do."


	14. Easier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Dark Year/Inner Workings stuff. This would take place between the two Inner Workings chapters.

Jackson breathed deeply through his nose and exhaled slowly, Abby only spared him a brief glance before turning her attention back to the table again. They had finally finished the arduous task and now needed to roll _it_ to the kitchen. Jackson had placed a blanket over the remains they had so carefully and precisely cut up per Cooper's instructions. It had been done in unnerving silence with both Abby and Jackson only speaking when needed, voices stiff with sorrow.

"Octavia posted extra guards on this level so we shouldn't run into any wanderers," Abby said as she stood next to Jackson to stare at the blanket covering the pieces on the rolling table. Jackson just nodded dully in response and Abby spoke again, "Okay, let's go then." She touched Jackson's arm. "Thanks, Jackson." Again, he nodded in response and then grabbed the handle on the rolling table, pushing it through the door Abby opened.

Abby walked silently beside, both lost in their own thoughts as they wheeled the silver cart to the kitchen. It felt so bizarrely formal. Jackson fought down the urge to to just roll the cart away, walk off, and forget what had happened the last few hours. He wondered if Abby was having the same urge. He kept his wits about him and continued pushing the cart, Abby matching him stride for stride.

They came to a stop at the kitchen. Cooper was waiting for them inside the doorway. "About time," she greeted them, voice all steel, face a mask of indifference.

"We don't usually operate in this manner," Abby replied shortly. Jackson was surprised she still had any fire left in her after everything. His own expression remained impassive, the neutrality a vain effort to mask his fatigue. He was just so tired.

Cooper was not impressed. "Well, I'm not used to having to cook in 'this manner.'" She was mocking Abby, but both Abby and Jackson heard the strain in her voice and recognized the fear, the horror at the situation they were finding themselves in. Jackson wondered if the sense of surreality that was overcoming his senses would ever lessen; it was all just too unreal to him. This couldn't possibly be happening. They had to be in another reality, this was just some twisted version of the City of Light, he would wake up soon and find himself in the City of Light or Becca's island, or Arkadia- just anywhere that was not _here._

"We're all doing things we're not used to," Abby breathed softly, her tone surprisingly gentle with Cooper now. There was a pause and Jackson really hoped they weren't waiting for him to contribute to the conversation because he had nothing to say. He just wanted to be done with the day. Abby sighed. "If you want to say something, say it," she said. Jackson glanced over at her, surprised, not sure if she was speaking to him or Cooper. She was speaking to the latter, much to his relief. He hadn't even noticed that Cooper was holding back he'd been so anxious to leave.

"This is your fault. We all would have been fine if you just hadn't opened the door in the first place! And _this_ is your idea," Cooper ranted.

The accusation roused Jackson out of his daze and he finally had words. "That's not fair," he defended Abby. The senior doctor placed a hand on his forearm to quiet him.

"It's okay," she assured him even as he stared at her doubtfully. Abby turned her attention back to Cooper. "I did open the door and I would do it again. The farm failing isn't my fault, this is _our_ solution if we want to remain alive." Jackson was amazed and impressed with how Abby spoke so eloquently and confidently even while they were pushing around a body that they had cubed into impossibly small little squares so Cooper could cook them.

Cooper considered her words and then exhaled deeply as if coming to a decision of her own. "Fine." She looked down at the covered table and shot a brief look at both Jackson and Abby before focusing again on Abby. "So, here's what- one, two? This won't last us and will barely feed all of us for one meal."

"I know," Abby agreed. "I've been working with Octavia to rework some of the rules Kane and Jaha originally put into place."

"An effort to create more criminals for this purpose," Cooper summed up easily with a lazy wave of her hand at the table Jackson was gripping tightly. It was just getting more surreal by the moment and Jackson was having trouble keeping his focus on the present.

"Yes," Abby's voice was tight and her tone final. Jackson hoped that meant they could leave soon.

"Fine," Cooper muttered, finally grabbing the opposite end of the rolling table and pulling it towards herself, away from Jackson.

"Do you need help?" Abby offered wearily. Words of protest died in Jackson's throat as he realized he wouldn't leave Abby alone with Cooper even if he had no desire to do anything else this evening.

Cooper gave each of them another long, studying look before giving a short shake of her head. "No, Octavia assigned a couple people to help me. We'll see how long they last. Might take you up on that offer later." Jackson could almost hear the unspoken _And we'll see how long you last._

Abby just nodded at Cooper and then turned away, Jackson following her lead. They walked in silence for several minutes until they reached the point where they'd need to split ways since they bunked in separate rooms. "Hey," Abby said softly after another moment of long silence in which the two simply stood in the hall waiting for the other to speak. "Will you be okay?"

"Will you?"

"It'll get easier," Abby insisted. "We have no choice."

Jackson wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. They parted ways and the walk to his room was eerie, almost haunting. He wished there was noise in the hallway but it was just silent. In his mind's eye, he kept replaying the last few hours he'd spent with Abby. It was something he never wanted to do again, yet he knew he would do it again. And again. And again. The panic started to rise up again, but he quelled it using Abby's words, _We have no choice. It'll get easier. We have no choice. It'll get easier._  It was like a chant, the only thing keeping his sanity in tact at the thought of having do this for at least a year.

It wouldn't get easier.


	15. that's why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's a change in name from Miller to Nate in here (and Cooper to Kara) but I left as is. I know there's a lot of different ways to interpret this scene from The Red Queen as we only get glimpses of the Mackson stuff. But I wondered if we missed a conversation somewhere. So I made one up. 
> 
> Been a rough few weeks personally. But here I am, posting random fanfiction, lol 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! (probably gonna be a ton of typos in this chapter)

Jackson pursed his lips as he watched Miller pace before him, looking more agitated by the minute. Things were moving along down in the bunker, as best as it could after a little over a month. Their relationship was still a bit of a mystery to Jackson and felt almost too good to be true at times despite the uncertainty. Of course, he had just been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jackson was sure the sound of Miller's pacing and the aggravation clear on his face was exactly that: the other shoe dropping. Jackson didn't cross his arms but stood his ground, unrelenting.

"I don't understand," Miller said lowly and with frustration. "Why wouldn't you want to be able to defend yourself? Or Abby? Or- just!" Miller stopped his pacing and his fingers went to his temples. "Help me understand."

"We've already talked about this," Jackson's voice was quiet and patient, even if tired.

"We start talking about it and then say we'll talk about it more later," Miller corrected him.

Jackson sighed quietly and looked over at Niylah who was watching the exchange. He could feel Ivy and Colby's eyes on his back and tracking Miller's movements. It was a strange feeling having to share so much of yourself with other people. On the Ark, the population may have been a little more than that of the bunker, but it was lonely. The bunker had its own set of issues, but being alone was not one of them. Solitude in the bunker was nearly impossible to obtain.

"You get upset when we talk about it," Jackson reminded Miller. It was true. Miller became agitated and upset and Jackson was afraid this would be their undoing. It was odd as Jackson didn't seem to have the same trouble with the issue that Miller did and, really, it should be Jackson who was agitated over the subject.

"Yes!" Miller exclaimed in agreement. "Of course I get upset. We're going to be down here for five  _years._  I don't understand why you won't at least let me show you how to  _use_  a gun or why you won't carry one."

Jackson's voice didn't rise to meet Miller's, remaining calm and patient. "I'm not going to carry a gun and I don't want to know how to use it."

Miller used his hands to articulate, throwing them up in frustration. "Why not?! We're surrounded by grounders down here, we're in the minority," Miller saw Niylah, Jackson, and Ivy all about to protest and he overrode them, "And, yes, I know we're all Wonkru down here, but some people are still learning that. We're the ones that stand out, we're from the sky."

"I don't mind that you use a gun, Nate, I don't understand why it matters if I don't use one," Jackson said tiredly. This would be the argument, Jackson just knew, one way or another, eventually one of these arguments over the gun would tear them apart.

"You don't mind because you know I'll use it to protect myself, you know I'm safe." Miller's voice was more accusatory than he meant it to be.

"That's not why," Jackson protested, voice still level. "If you decide to stop using it, that's fine. I just don't expect you to stop carrying a gun or change who you are."

"That's not-that's not what I'm asking you to do," Miller insisted, tone almost desperate. He just wanted to make sure Jackson was  _safe._

"It's exactly what you're asking me to do," Jackson countered, some fire finally in his voice.

"I'm not asking you to change who you  _are._ I'm just asking you to be…practical." Miller saw the disappointment in Jackson's eyes and went on, "I love you," he said quietly.  There it was again.  Miller had said those words a few days and Jackson still didn't know what to make of it.  Things were moving awfully fast for him.  He wasn't used to having someone this invested him. 

"Do you?" Jackson asked, still disappointed and Miller winced at the defeat in the other's eyes. Miller shot him a questioning look and Jackson continued, "If you do love me, you'll respect my wishes. Not carrying a gun is part of who I am. If you can't accept that, then you don't."

"Don't what?"

"Love me."

Miller sighed, the argument having worn him down and his frustration had only been worked up into a frenzy. "Come on, Jackson! That's not fair!" He turned and looked over at Ivy and Colby for help but they refused to get involved. He looked at Niylah. "You agree with him?"

"It's not my business," Niylah mumbled also trying to stay out of the row.

"Of course it's no one's business til he's hurt," Miller growled, throwing the other occupants in the room a nasty look before storming out. The room was silent for a couple minutes after he left.

"I'm sorry about that," Jackson apologized to them.

Niylah shrugged. "It's not your fault." She tilted her head. "But why don't you want to carry a gun or learn to use one? Nathan did have some good points."

"Would you carry one?"

Niylah pondered it for a few moments, recalling the weapon that had caused the death of her father. If he'd had one, would he still be alive?  "I don't know," she admitted.

Ivy finally piped up, echoing Niylah's earlier thoughts, "But, really, Jackson, it would be safer if you carried one."

Jackson shook his head, unwavering in his position, "No, I don't want to hurt anyone. There's no reason for me to have a gun with the guard here and the rules. I'm here to help people, not break up fights or any of that."

No one else said anything regarding the matter and Jackson wondered again if it would be the end between him and Miller because of their inability to understand each other on this issue.

*** 

Jackson found himself locked on the wrong side of the doors, though Kara Cooper would definitely disagree with that sentiment. He found himself pondering the arguments he'd had with Nate regarding him carrying a gun. Nate would say now that had he been carrying one, he wouldn't have wound up in this situation. Jackson briefly wondered what he would even do with a gun. It's not like he'd shoot people on this side of the door with him. He couldn't get them to rise up and it was frustrating, but he had no desire to kill them. Still,  _Nate_  was on the other side of the door. And these people had chained up Abby and Kane.

Jackson found himself staring at the gun that was attached to Cooper's hip while she tried to assure people that they were fine, they had music, and everything else they needed on this side of the door. If he grabbed her gun, he could force her to open the door. He could- what _could_ he do? He wondered what Nate or someone else might do in his place. Would they shoot their way out or just threaten and hope things went well. What would Jackson do with Cooper's gun? He couldn't shoot her even as upset as he was with her. Even with Nate on the other side of the door, a very real possibility of starvation on his horizon if they didn't figure out this door situation.

The thought of Nate starving gave Jackson pause and he thought maybe he could really grab Cooper's gun and force the others to open the door. But what about the ones that refused or tried to rush him and grab the gun back? What would Jackson do then? Shoot them? He couldn't. He wouldn't. His job was to patch people up that were suffering from gunshot wounds; he was not supposed to be the one causing them. That wasn't him. It would never be him. He desperately hoped Nate would forgive him. He hoped even more that Octavia and everyone figured out how to get in.

It took longer than he would have liked, but there was immense relief when the door was open and Jackson found Nate quickly enough. He felt obligated to try to explain himself, to try to justify why he wasn't the one who had opened the door for them, why he couldn't overthrow Kara, just why.

Explanations and justifications weren't needed, though, as Jackson found nothing but acceptance and love in place of questions. Finally, that understanding was there. And then he knew they would be okay, more than that, he knew he'd found the one.

" _You're a healer not a fighter, that's why I love you."_


	16. Anchor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably typos 
> 
> warning: forced abortions mentioned

Miller went to Medical in search of Jackson. They were supposed to have met in their room after their shifts. Miller had arrived on time and waited for his boyfriend, growing concerned when more time passed without any sign of him. Niylah was in the room as was Ivy, but both hadn't seen Jackson. Niylah had seen him on her shift, but hers had ended before his by several hours; they tended to work opposite each other. 

As Miller suspected, Jackson was still in Medical. He was sitting in a chair next to a bed where a woman was slumbering. Just one quick glance at the doctor's face told Miller it'd been a long day. Jackson looked tired and weary. He usually did, but some days he looked more world-weary than others and today was one of those days.

Abby noticed Miller from where she stood, tending to supplies. She wasn't looking too great herself. She shot him a quick, encouraging smile before turning back to the supplies, cleaning and organizing, counting.

Miller approached Jackson hesitantly and quietly, aware of the sleeping patient. Jackson looked up from his chair as Miller drew closer and the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly, eyes full of affection and gratitude. Miller stopped by the chair and looked down questioningly. "Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

Jackson reached up to place his hand on Miller's. "Hi," he greeted quietly, gripping Miller's hand tightly, almost desperately, like it was a lifeline that he needed. Miller glanced from the bed to Jackson, concerned.

"Is she?" Miller asked quietly, pretty sure she wasn't dead but maybe they were waiting on her to die, he couldn't be sure as some of the stuff the two doctors did went over his head.

"She'll be okay," Jackson said with some resignation. He looked incredibly guilty and Miller's frown only deepened in confusion. Abby had that same look of guilt plastered on her face; almost like the two had just committed some kind of sin.

Miller waited a beat before asking, "Are you going to stay here?" It wasn't unheard of that Jackson or Abby would give up their off time and stay in Medical with a sick patient or ones they felt particularly close to.

Jackson released Miller's hand with a sigh and stood up slowly. He shook his head, "No, I don't think she'd appreciate it." Miller's eyes flicked back over to the slumbering woman again, still confused. Jackson looked over to his friend and colleague, "Abby? Are you sure you'll be okay if she wakes up?"

Abby was slow to respond but did nod after a minute. Finally she answered, "Yes, it'll be fine. I don't think she'll wake up for some time anyway and Ica should be here soon."

"If you need any help you know where to find me." Abby simply smiled at Jackson's offer and he gave a quick nod to Miller signalling he was ready to leave. Miller was relieved as things were incredibly tense in the room and only getting more tense by the moment. The tension followed them out and Miller realized it was Jackson; usually Miller was the more intense of the two.

"Hey," Miller grabbed Jackson's hand again as they walked towards their room. "Everything okay?" Jackson just gave a short shake of his head, an indication Miller had learned a long while ago that meant he didn't want to talk about it. Jackson hardly ever wanted to talk about anything anymore since the Dark Year had come upon them. 

They finished their walk in silence, hands still linked until they entered the room. Niylah, Ivy, and Jonah, another guard, were in the room. Miller wished Haley was there as she was usually the one that kept Ivy in line and Ivy had been particularly feisty since they'd lost Colby. And, by feisty, Miller meant cruel, mostly towards Jackson. Ivy resented him for Colby's demise and then having to consume him. There were two more people that shared the room with them but Miller hardly saw them since they worked such opposite schedules.

"You found him," Niylah greeted them when they entered. She'd known Miller had gone out looking for Jackson. Another look at him and she added, "Rough day?" Jackson went to answer but Ivy beat him to it.

"I bet it was," she said darkly. "Who wants to play a game? It's called _Who's for dinner?_ I'm sure Jackson can give us hints."

"Ivy!"

"Enough!"

Miller was grateful that both Niylah and Jonah were quick to jump on Ivy's case as he was sure he'd actually threaten her and he didn't want any trouble. More troubling was Jackson's reaction to Ivy's taunt. He didn't wince or even look bothered by the words like he used to. Now, he just accepted it like it was understandable and even expected.

"Ivy, I've told you before it's not fair to say things like that," Niylah scolded the younger girl.

"No," Jackson intervened, his voice tired but strong, "She's not wrong."

Miller's eyes widened and he was quick to shake his head. "Jackson, that's not right."

"No, Jackson, she's not right," Niylah was quick to protest as well and even Jonah chipped in saying Ivy was definitely wrong. Ivy's expression was a mixture of defiance and surprise.

"Yes, she is. It was a rough day and I do know who'll likely be for dinner tomorrow if you all want to play a game."

"None of us want to play a game about that." Miller's tone was incredulous. "I can't believe I even need to say that." He shot a murderous glare towards Ivy, who was starting to show some remorse for her words.

"Yes, not a game I want to play," Jonah confirmed. "Besides, I don't think I need to remind anyone, but it is against the law to play games about that or relating to it." He stared at Ivy hard, hoping to get his point across. If she said much more, he and Miller would have no choice but to have her arrested and thrown into the pits. They'd already let too much slide with her.

"That doesn't make her wrong," Jackson insisted, voice sounding strange and on edge. Niylah and Miller exchanged a quick look while Ivy and Jonah simply stared at Jackson, shocked at how he was reacting to everything. It was very unusual for him to do anything but attempt to defend his actions when Ivy brought up stuff that was better left unsaid.

"Jackson," Miller reached out to touch the other's arm but Jackson jerked away like Miller's fingers were fire.

"No, don't. Don't touch me," Jackson's response was quiet but fierce. Miller was stunned and couldn't do anything for a minute, hands falling to his sides.

Niylah cleared her throat. "We're going to go check something out." She looked purposefully at Ivy and Jonah. The latter nodded in understanding right away while Ivy went to protest. The warning looks on Niylah and Jonah's faces warned her not to so she just nodded in agreement instead. Miller was still too stunned to be grateful and barely noticed when the other three left the room and gave them some space.

After a few long moments of utter silence, Miller found his voice again, "Why? Did I do something?" He was honestly lost. "I don't understand."

Jackson attempted a laugh, a strangled and disturbing sound leaving his throat instead. "No,  _you_ didn't do anything." There was a couple more minutes of tense silence while Jackson put more distance between the two of them, choosing to lean his back against the wall and slide down against it, feeling too weary to keep standing. After another minute, he mumbled, "I'm not a good person. Definitely not a good doctor."

"What are you talking about? You're a great person and an amazing doctor," Miller stated firmly, knowing it was true, believing it to his very core.

"No," Jackson said with a shake of his head. "No."

Miller squatted beside Jackson, keeping eye contact, but giving them some distance in case Jackson jerked away again like earlier. "Help me understand what you're thinking."

"That woman in there," Jackson began slowly and Miller gave an encouraging nod. Somehow, he'd suspected it would come back to that sleeping patient. "She-she," Jackson tore his eyes away from Miller's and looked at the ceiling now, too ashamed to keep eye contact. "She was pregnant."

Miller frowned. "That's against the law unless Octavia specifies otherwise and I doubt she'll make any exceptions all things considered."

Jackson closed his eyes briefly, still looking upwards. "Exactly. She's not pregnant anymore. Abby and I saw to it."

"I don't understand," Miller said helplessly. He was getting more confused by the second. It sounded like Jackson had just done his job.

"She wanted to keep it, she didn't want that forced on her. She struggled and fought. She  _screamed."_

"She couldn't, though, there's no way."

Jackson did laugh for a second, another strange sound considering the topic. "Isn't there? If I just didn't do it or turned my head the other way. After all, isn't the person who's running this place the result of a secret pregnancy?"

"You'd be killed if they found out you let someone have a baby that wasn't approved by Octavia."

"You mean thrown into the fighting pits," Jackson corrected him, though they both knew that he wouldn't fight in the pits.

"You're only doing your job. They're lucky to have someone who's kind and caring…" Miller trailed off when Jackson started to laugh at the words.

"I doubt they'd use those words, Nate. More like  _killer_  and  _cold_."

"No, that's not-"

"Don't you get it, Nate?!" Jackson snapped, his voice rising for the first time during their conversation. "I  _am_ the villain! That's what I am to that woman. And the other ones. And to their lovers, too, I'm sure. They're thinking and wondering what kind of doctor I am. Why couldn't I help them? They come to me for  _help_  and then!" Jackson's fingers went to his temples and he started to massage them, feeling the world crashing around him. Feeling very exposed and vulnerable.

Miller was silent, watching his partner breakdown. He'd only seen Jackson cry once and that was at the start of the Dark Year after he'd helped Abby portion out the first body. Jackson was not a crier and he didn't cry now, even as he looked the picture of misery.

"Hey," Miller said again, using a rare tone he reserved for only Jackson and only when he absolutely needed it.

"One hundred and two," Jackson muttered, eyes still on the ceiling, fingers massaging his temples anxiously. "One hundred and two women I've had to perform this  _operation_  on since we've been down here." Miller didn't say anything for a moment, certainly not that he was surprised the number wasn't higher, he wondered how many Abby had performed. Or maybe that was just the number of women who hadn't wanted the operation; they'd been down here for over two years now. He hated to see Jackson in such agony.

He tried to reach out again, grabbing Jackson's hands with a feather-light touch, bringing them away from his face. "Hey," he spoke softly again, "Baby, hey, look at me." He used the pet name rarely and in only the most private of circumstances and private circumstances were rare in the bunker. Jackson finally looked away from the ceiling and looked at Miller with large, dark brown eyes that would make anyone melt but really had an effect on Miller's heartstrings.

"I don't know how much more I can take," Jackson confessed, voice barely a whisper.

"You don't," Miller started to plant kisses on his partner's forehead. "You don't have to keep taking anything if you don't want." Miller rested his forehead against Jackson's, using his own brown eyes to tug at Jackson's heartstrings. "But, please, for me, keep taking it."

"I-" Jackson started to protest, but was silenced by Miller's lips on his. Miller always tried to show his feelings through his actions. He trusted that Niylah would keep the others out for as long as she could manage and he should have some time before their other roommates were to return. He figured he had roughly twenty to forty minutes to remind Jackson just how much he was loved.

Miller knew exactly how to pull soft moans and light gasps out of Jackson and went to work on it. He managed to get Jackson off the floor and to his bed. He elicited more sighs and moans out of his partner and made Jackson's toes curl and dragged out a staccato string of "Nate!" from those plump lips.

When he was finished, Miller helped Jackson back into his clothes and double checked his own clothes, aware that any minute one of several roommates could walk through the door. Jackson was lying in his own bunk, thoroughly worn out both physically and emotionally.

Miller walked over to Niylah's bunk where she kept different jars of herb remedies tied to her bed post.  They were natural and stuff she'd carried in with her, they had yet to be confiscated as Abby had no need for it in Medical.  He yanked off the one he knew would help with sleep and went back to Jackson who was eyeing him both appreciatively and warily. Miller sprinkled some of the herb out and offered it to Jackson. Jackson made no move at first and Miller sighed.

"You'll have nightmares if you don't take it and you need- no, you  _deserve_  some rest."

Jackson stared at him for a long moment before he nodded and accepted it. "Thanks."

Miller just smiled at him before sitting on the bunk and affectionately playing with Jackson's hair while he dozed off. He wasn't sure exactly how long he sat there but was sure it had to be several minutes before he heard noise outside the door- Niyah being exceptionally loud as to warn them in case they were indecent or otherwise.

Niylah made a point to make more loud noise for another few minutes before entering the room with Ivy and Jonah in tow. Ivy huffed and went straight to her bed, throwing herself on it with a punch to her pillow. Jonah stopped before Miller. "I've talked to Ivy about her behavior, she should stay in line. For now."

Miller nodded at him. "Thanks, man."

"Sure thing," Jonah moved towards his own bunk, leaving Niylah standing alone before Miller

Miller looked up at her. "Thanks, Niylah, really, I owe you." She'd managed to keep the others out for just about an hour.

"You don't owe me anything," Niyah insisted, glancing at Jackson who was sound asleep, Miller's fingers still ruffling his hair. "Will he be okay?"

Miller didn't answer for a moment, considering her question and his own words carefully. "Yes, he'll be okay," he replied. He knew Jackson would be, he just needed an anchor and Miller was more than happy to be just that.


	17. Positivity makes it easier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! The 100 is back on! I watched the episode yesterday and was excited! Man, I hate how much I like Murphy, lol! He 's just such a fun character! I would not want him as a friend, though, hahaha! Ahh, but where are my other two girls at?! And, man, I'm mourning a particular character because all that story line potential just got totally shot and it was so promising!
> 
> Of course, the little "Mackson" bit was nice and reminded me that I have this random fanfic here. Jackson is generally positive and that's great. Abby is, too, but we get to see her struggles as she gets a lot more screen time (and I'm in no way complaining about her screen time because I adore her) and we don't really get to see many of Jackson's.
> 
> This did get me thinking, though, that things usually are easier when you're a positive person. Now, that doesn't mean one doesn't struggle, but things are easier to deal with because of the better attitude.

It was about four months into The Dark Year. It was almost pathetic how nearly everyone in the bunker had learned to count days down thanks to some of the leftover technology that was in the bunker. With few exceptions, everyone was clamoring to get out of the bunker, especially with the new food that was being forced on them.

"Jackson, have you been listening to the stories Niylah tells? She's quite good at storytelling," Abby commented out of blue. Both she and Jackson were in Medical, tending to usual evening procedures. "Maybe she missed her true calling." Abby was standing opposite of him, a metal kitchen cart in between them.

Jackson chuckled agreeably. "Yes, I've heard a lot of stories from both her and Nate."

"They enjoy dazzling the masses, huh?" Abby asked good naturedly. She was having a better day today than most and Jackson was happy for it. He was sure she'd probably snuck an extra pill in or something, but it was nice to have these conversations with her every now and then.

"You can say that," Jackson said with a nod and even the hint of a smile. It was an odd feeling. Abby actually beamed at him and smiled, seemingly unbothered by things. Jackson's own hand no longer shook when he had the scalpel during this process. And that's all it was to him: part of the process. He had learned not to think too long about it. It was just how things were. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get on the same level as Abby regarding it, but he had to come to terms with it somehow.

"Will you pass me that container, please?" Abby asked, pointing to a container near Jackson. He complied immediately and watched, lacking the discomfort he'd once had, as she placed a sizeable chunk of human flesh in it. She glanced over at him again, and her smile turned a bit sheepish. "So, have you got any of your own?"

Jackson looked down at the deceased human on their kitchen cart and then back up to Abby in confusion. "Have I got what?" His eyes landed on the tray he had on another cart with containers of flesh that he'd extracted during this process.

Abby shook her head. "No, I'm not talking about this," she explained, indicating what they were doing. "I'm talking about stories. Have you got some that you've been telling?"

Jackson shrugged. "You know most of my stories, Abby. Besides, Niylah and Nate are better at that stuff than me. I don't really have that kind of mindset."

Abby nodded. "True, true. I can understand. Us analytical minds have to stick together."

"Yeah, Niylah is more of a creative mind."

"And Nathan….?"

Jackson paused, thinking about how to phrase it as he extracted more flesh from the deceased. He had just seen this man a couple weeks ago at Medical. Jackson didn't know him too well, though he knew who he'd been. Clearly, the fighting pits had not shown him mercy.

"Nate has more of a militaristic mind." Jackson seemed to realize his words after they'd left his mouth. He looked at Abby worriedly, "Not that I'm saying he isn't creative because he definitely can be. He does like telling stories, too."

Abby waved her hand again. "Don't worry, I know exactly what you mean," she assured him. Jackson was relieved even though he knew Abby would never do anything that might put him on the outs with his boyfriend. Still, being called militaristic wasn't exactly a compliment. Or maybe it was, depending on who was on the receiving end? He was so glad Abby was here with them. She was safe and Jackson trusted her to the point it almost scared him. Abby continued, "We should definitely have them have a story competition sometime."

Jackson laughed a little. "That would be fun."

They worked in comfortable silence for awhile. The two of them had gotten so good at this, it usually only took them two to three hours now to complete the process. It was relief from those first two grueling weeks when it had taken hours to figure things out and how to maximize what they had before them.

Jackson twisted the cap on the last container. He knew they'd bring these to the kitchens. Someone would wash the containers out and bring them back to Medical before the night was over. He was grateful they were at least using containers. They had quickly found this was best, just in case an accident happened in the kitchen. It was much harder to lose any bits and pieces this way.

Abby paused when they were finished, waiting for Jackson's attention. He raised his brows at her, unsure what she was waiting on. Usually, they just went right away. Abby smiled again, but it was clearly strained and uncertain. "Jackson, you know I am sorry about all this….." Jackson went to interrupt her and assure her that he understood, but she raised her hand to stop him from speaking. "Has it gotten any easier for you?"

Jackson furrowed his brows, deep in thought. He wouldn't say it was because nothing about it was easy. However, was it like the first few times? He no longer wanted to retch about it and he only felt a faint and distant horror about it now unlike before when it had been sharp and at the forefront of his mind.

"Maybe not easier, but it's not as uncomfortable as it was."

Abby nodded. "Yeah, I understand that." With that, they started rolling their cart to the kitchen.

Jackson couldn't help but think about Abby's question more. It hadn't gotten easier, had it? He didn't really want to think too deeply upon it because if he reflected on it too much, he might have found it had gotten easier. What was he supposed to do, though? He could beat himself up and hate himself for it, but what good would that do? Was he supposed to become like Kane? There was already so many other things he was struggling with down here. Then a thought struck him with clarity. One he often told himself when dealing with patients, _Choose your battles._

Maybe this was one battle he just wouldn't choose, he'd already been struggling with it for some time and nothing changed. Besides, if he didn't do this with Abby, who would? And, this was good, people were eating and not dying. Of course, things could be better, but this was a positive outcome. If this person hadn't died, one or two or several more people might have died from starvation.

A couple days later, when Miller inquired about Jackson's improved mood, Jackson explained his thoughts. Miller had raised a brow and didn't look entirely convinced.

"You don't think it's right?" Jackson asked, hurt clear in his voice.

Miller was quick to shake his head. "I didn't say that. I'm just. I'm happy that you're being positive about it." It was actually a relief as Miller had been more than slightly worried about the effect this might be having on Jackson. Miller had been doing his best to be supportive as he knew there was no choice for him in the matter. He was relieved that Jackson's usual positivity was still there and was resurfacing, but this was a bit jarring considering the subject.

Jackson shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know if I'd say  _positive._  Just _realistic."_

Miller just nodded in wordless agreement. Even though Jackson had stated it wasn't any easier on him, it seemed it  _had_  become easier. That was something Miller was grateful for. He didn't like having to see Jackson struggle with things like this. He hoped that positivity would stay on the surface and not dip back down again.


End file.
